


Take These Broken Wings

by KOranges, Neutralchaos



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-21 11:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 103,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14914229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KOranges/pseuds/KOranges, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neutralchaos/pseuds/Neutralchaos
Summary: It’s a man’s world. Steve knew that. And fifty years had changed nothing but the extremes people were willing to go to justify their hatred of Demons.Which meant that under no circumstances was anyone to ever find out that Captain America was one.





	1. 3-12-07

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this gorgeous artwork by Neutralchaos!  
> 
> 
> We should be posting daily for the rest of the month!!  
> Stay tuned!

\--Embedded Image-  
Image © Getty Images 1998 original signed copy of the 22nd Amendment  
Document Reads as follows:  
By Executive Order, it is hereby declared that all non-human citizens are not considered as “PEOPLE” under the parlance of the Constitution of the United States of America. As such they are not protected by the same rights and protections as granted to those citizens which are of verifiably human in origin. These non-human species are heretofore to be referred to as “DEMON” and those of human origin to be “MAN”.

**SCOTUS Upholds World War II Era Amendment**  
By James Olson  
March 12, 2007

In a surprise 5/4 opinion, the Supreme Court of the United States of America upheld a controversial set of laws today, becoming the fifth country in the past three years to uphold World War II Era regulations regarding the movements, protections, and rights of demonkind. Notoriously these laws, authorized by what Americans refer to as the Churchill Order, were based on legislature drafted in the United Kingdom and passed by then-Prime Minister Winston Churchill. It is widely considered to be the most stringent regulations ever passed, and by far the most comprehensive set of regulatory laws still standing in the 21st Century. It’s language has allowed for several states to allow for demonkind to be arrested on sight and for several others to hold demon beings without cause for indeterminate periods of time. This practice became wildly polarizing during the 1993 case against then 19 year old demon Abbadon, who was held for a record 1,214 days in prison without any charges ever being filed. Abbadon was famously sentenced to death after attempting to escape custody, injuring two guards in the process.

The specific case the Supreme Court was asked to rule on involved a young demon named Magneto from the demon colony of Queens. They levied a case against the state of New York under the claim that certain aspects the Executive Order- and the Churchill Laws which were based on its premise- was a violation of their rights. Their claim, that they were not Demon but Human due to a mixed genetic lineage, was rejected outright by the courts. Protests led by Magneto have cost the lives of three New York Police Department officers. It should be noted that both the United Nations and Amnesty International have condemned both Magneto and the Churchill Laws.  
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Shared (1856)  
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Comments (2.5k)

 **GuestUser46918547**  
who gives a shit? demon fucks know where they stand…let them try anything

 **JennieWithAnIE**  
Actually, , *I* care! This issue is IMPORTANT. We have to think about this country. There’s too much danger in letting this demon types run free. The Churchill protects this country, her interests, and our CHILDREN from a very real threat. GOOD JOB SUPREME COURT!!!! 

 **TheManWithoutFear**  
This is exactly why America is in the position it’s in. We haven’t made any progress whatsoever since 1944.

 **ImACoolMom**  
AMEN TO THAT,  <JennieWithAnIE>!! I have two little ones at home and worry about this all the time.

 **JennieWithAnIE**  
We have to keep them safe  <ImACoolMom>!   
, What exactly do you mean by that? AMERICA IS THE SAFEST COUNTRY ON DEMON RIGHTS. How many demon-related attacks did we have last year? ZERO. YOUR WELCOME!

 **TheManWithoutFear**  
You’d think that would be a reason to lighten restrictions, not increase them. Our country cannot be considered safe for demons, can it? And demon rights? What demon rights?

 **TheManWithoutFear**  
Also, *you’re

 **ImACoolMom**  
*YOU’RE* being unnecessarily hostile. AND *YOU’RE*wrong!

 **JennieWithAnIE**  
Don’t bother engaging,  <ImACoolMom>, <TheManWithoutFear> is clearly a troll. I’ve reported them to the admin. They’re going to be banned!

 **HumansAreMutantsToo**  
The Churchill laws are generalizing bullshit. NOT ALL NON-HUMAN SPECIES ARE DEMONS. Idiots. They knew this 2000 years ago so by the speed of stupidity it should get to Washington by about 2376. WE HAVE RIGHTS TOO.

 **Administrator**  
<HumansAreMutantsToo> You are violating terms of service of your account by posting on this forum. This site has been restricted for use by human citizens only.

<read more comments> 

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  2. Senator Kelly Announces Re-Election Bid; Unveils Updated Churchill Laws Proposal! 
  3. Was a Demon just spotted heading into the H.O.Z? Officials quietly on the hunt! 
  4. Billionaire Mogul Tony Stark’s Lifestyle is Absolute Goals- Our Trip on His Exclusive Private Jet! 
  5. President Ellis on Recent Roxxon Merger- “A Stronger Market Means a Stronger America.” 
  6. Demon Challenger of the Churchill Laws Faces Serious Jail-Time Over Upheld Guilty Verdict 




	2. In My Time o

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  banner by Neutralchaos!

He didn’t even recognize the way Manhattan smelled anymore. That was the first thing that he’d noticed. When he’d pulled to a stop in Times Square, the neon signage and the cars all seemed futuristic and weird, but at least normal. He knew what signs were. He recognized a car. A bus. A taxi. But that smell- not filth per se but something fairly close to it- clogged his nostrils. It was wholly unfamiliar.

And then there was Agent Nicholas Fury, of S.H.I.E.L.D., explaining himself and his lie and who Steve was and all Steve could think was that Times Square smelled like garbage. And fumes. And vaguely like something was burning? Maybe it was his senses going haywire. Fury said they’d check it. That they had people standing by to take a look at him. And then he’d been pulled back to their headquarters- right past the sign that read “HUMAN ONLY ZONE” in huge black block script- and waved through their hand scanners by a security man who was more concerned with not questioning Fury than safety.

If only he knew.

From there it was this room. Poking and prodding and more beeping devices than Steve thought were strictly speaking necessary for his health. They set him on edge. The room was uncomfortable. Or, he was uncomfortable in it. He had to remind himself not to look too visibly nervous. And to shake just enough to look natural in the cold. Maybe just enough to make sure they thought he was human. He was human enough.

It was cold enough in the room that a human would be slightly shivering, so Steve did. As much as he despised it. It served no purpose. He wasn’t any warmer from it. But still, his body did it almost automatically. Along with the goosebumps. He hated those too. He hated the whole complex they were in. The street. They way it had smelled when they brought him in. The way all of the staff had regarded him with wide eyes and wonder as if he were some kind of marvel.

He was human. And they shouldn’t stare. Between them and the smell, Steve’s head was pounding.

The room they put him in the second time was sterile and white and Steve almost preferred the room of lies that they’d tried to feed him. At least that room had a few concessions to comfort and aesthetics. Everything about this new room was harsh- from the harsh smell of cleaner, the bright white of the walls and cabinets. And Steve was stuck sitting on a metallic table covered with nothing but his drawers and some paper.

It wasn’t as if he felt the cold, but Steve would’ve appreciated being allowed to keep his clothes on.

“Mr. Rogers?” The nurse stepped into the room and glanced between Steve and her papers.

“It's not Captain anymore?” Steve teased with a smile. Be warm, he reminded himself. Engaging. Don’t make her uncomfortable. Get her on your side. Get her to trust you. The woman looked panicked and for a moment Steve wondered if it was him being alive that set her on edge, or if he’d genuinely done something to anger her. It wasn’t a flattering I-find-you-attractive type of flustered. He’d had to find his way out of enough of those interactions to recognize the fidgeting nervousness that came with it. This was apprehension. Bordering on distaste.

“Apologies, Mr. Rogers.” She answered firmly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s in the file.”

So that was a no on the Captain, then. “Of course, ma’am.”

“I’ll need to take your blood pressure.” She motioned towards his arm so Steve held it aloft.

“Stark and Erskine’s formula causes it to be a little high, I’m told. Not anything that worried my doctors before but-”

“I have the notes from Dr. Erskine’s research.” The nurse clipped. Steve’s jaw snapped shut.

“Oh.” Steve said dumbly.

“And there’s been quite a few medical advances since you left us.” She continued. Her tag said ‘Williams’ on it but she hadn’t introduced herself to Steve yet. He waited for her to continue but she didn’t.

Her hands were shaking. Like he had before. Steve wondered if she’d notice if he started again. She wasn’t shaking from the cold, though, it appeared to be nervous or some emotion that made her whole body seem to tremble. Steve didn’t know what about him scared her. But she was scared. He did what he could to make himself less threatening. He slouched his shoulders and tucked his head slightly to relax himself as much as possible. It didn’t help the way her hand shook.

“I need you to sit up straight for the exam.” She insisted, hand pressing firmly on his back.

“Oh, sorry.” Steve felt like a heel and he didn’t even know why.

After the blood pressure test and some tests on Steve’s lungs, the nurse turned around with a needle. Steve just stared at it for a second. He’d been under the impression that these tests were to be simple and non-invasive. Just to make sure he wasn’t actively sick or dying. Steve didn’t see why a needle was needed for that. A needle meant they’d know. And he wasn’t ready for them to know.

“What is that for?” He asked her. When she noticed that he’d tensed, she froze.

“Blood test.” She said simply. Steve swallowed.

“What are they testing the blood for?” He didn’t know what his blood would tell them. Too much.

“Test for pathogens. Genetic make-up. It’s standard now.” She tried to explain. Steve swallowed.

“Don’t you have my blood from before?” He questioned. “Do you really need it again?”

The nurse forced a smile at him. “Those samples were destroyed in the 50s.”

“Stop!” Steve couldn’t help the shout as she came near him with the needle and test tube. The nurse seemed to soften slightly and set her at ease. Seeing that, Steve leaned into what she expected to hear from him. Fear and nervousness. “I’m sorry. I just. This test is…it’s a bit much. Um.”

Her smile morphed into something more genuine. “Don’t like needles, huh?”

“No, ma’am.” Steve hoped his smile was genuine enough to be convincing.

“I’ll talk to the Doctor about alternatives.” She assured him. “I’m not sure what he can do, though.”

“I appreciate it.” He relaxed again slightly.

“We’re almost done here. Let me just listen to you breathe for a second. Take a deep breath for me.” She continued to tell him when to breathe, moving a stethoscope along his chest and back. Her voice was pointedly more friendly than when she’d started. It was forced, but Steve at least felt like they were making a mutual effort to be kind to each other. As soon as she removed her hand, he relaxed himself again. When he looked up at her, she was staring at him with the same closed off expression that she had entered the room with. Steve swallowed.

“Is something wrong?” He asked her. She startled and then cleared her throat to try and cover it.

“The Doctor will be in shortly.” She told him.

Steve just stared at her and watched as she backed out of the room so quickly she hit herself with the door. It snapped shut behind her with a decisive slam and Steve straightened back up. Being honest, slouching was uncomfortable for him. His natural posture since he was young was straight. It had been one of his mother’s attempts to correct some of his physical ailments.

Not that he’d had any of those left after the serum.

Not that he’d had a lot of things any more after the serum.

* * *

Instead of the Doctor, the next person to come into the room was familiar to Steve. Fury. Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., which is what Steve would have called the S.S.R. back when he was still in the 1940’s. The group that lied to him and used Peggy to convince him to stick around. Steve had mixed feelings about them all. When Fury didn’t say anything, Steve didn’t either.

“Captain.” Fury started finally. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. 

“Fury.” Steve nodded.

“You have been quite the surprise, Captain.” Fury acknowledged. Steve had to smile. He didn’t think that Fury had any idea quite how surprising Steve was going to prove to be. He crossed his arms and was reminded of the fact that while Fury was in his standard head to toe black and leather, Steve was still in nothing but underwear and paper.

“It’s been quite the surprise for me too, sir.” Steve nodded. And that was true.

“I imagine so.”

There was an awkward silence that left Steve wishing he had some sort of witty retort to shoot back with. But his mind was blank. Absolutely barren. Instead he waited for Fury to meander his way to the point he had clearly come into this room to make. 

“You refused the blood test?” Fury clearly already knew he had and Steve didn’t see why he should lie.

“I’m just…A little on edge, sir.” Steve tried. Fury nodded a few times. “It’s a lot to take in all at once.”

Fury continued to nod. “I’m sure.”

“Can I ask you some questions, sir?” Steve asked him. “Outside of the year, I’m still in the dark here.”

Fury nodded. “After we finish your check up, I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have.”

“Is this a part of the check up?” Steve asked him. “Is this a test?”

Fury grinned but it was off and disconcerting to Steve. “Isn’t everything?”

* * *

Steve walked from the room, following a new nurse, thirty minutes later without having submitted to a blood test. He wasn’t relieved yet- he wouldn’t be until Fury started giving him a little more freedom. But he could sense that it was at least one hurdle crossed.

“You’ll have to come back for the blood test as soon as you’re up for it, sir.” The nurse told him. 

“I do?”

“Yes, sir.” The nurse nodded to herself while reading the file. “We were able to give you a temporary waiver, but your profile needs to be uploaded in to CODIS.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Into what?”

“CODIS? It is the reference database of all blood types. Anyone born, human or demon, is sampled at birth. It’s been the most effective means to prevent any unsavory events.” The nurse explained all of this while initialing across different papers in his file. 

“Sounds complicated.” Steve said with a whistle. He wanted to ask how exactly it worked, what exactly they tested for, but refrained. It would be better for them all if they assumed Steve didn’t understand. Instead, he acted surprised. “They can tell the difference between blood samples now?”

He needed to figure out how he was going to beat that test.

* * *

They sent him to a cabin somewhere in the Midwest. Steve had never been anywhere west of Tennessee so he couldn’t say exactly where. But it was secluded and private. Steve was left to his own devices and dozens of old files that Fury had approved his access to.

In a limited capacity, since his security clearance was in process.

Which meant all the good bits were going to be censored.

He was also without any access to the outside world besides those files. And since he’d decided not to read them, he was bored out of his mind. A walk around the building had allowed him just enough freedom to see that he was very securely fenced in by some sort of protective forcefield. And it being obvious enough for him to spot was probably also incredibly intentional. So, he wasn’t a prisoner. But, he wasn’t free. Which could honestly summarize the last several decades of Steve’s life.

And now that he was Captain America™ it was going to be the entire remainder of his life, for as long as that was. For better or worse. The thought was enough to make Steve’s knees buckle and force him onto the couch. Away from the files. Steve hadn’t really needed them to spell out the fact that all of his friends were gone. Dead. And for good.

Steve couldn’t help the pang of jealousy, though he knew that it was wasted.

Fury had come to him before he left with an offer. A job, so to speak, within S.H.I.E.L.D. and under him. Steve had immediately had visions of spandex and dancing girls and almost vomited right there in Fury’s office. But he wanted to serve. He wanted to use what Erskine had done to him and make sure that something truly good came from it. Captain America was alive and that had to be for a reason. There had to be a reason that he was here.

“It’s not going to be in those damn files,” Steve whispered to himself. 

So instead of reminding himself yet again of what Steve Rogers had lost, he got up and went to the small gym that they’d set up in one of the bedrooms and he set to work on a punching bag in the corner. He needed the physical exertion to distract himself. He needed to be focusing on the present, not the past. And each impact, each strike, reminded him exactly where he was. And what he was.

* * *

He caved on the third morning after three very restless nights. He’d been cooking his eggs for breakfast and then without even thinking about it, the stove was off and he was at the little table with all of the Howlie’s files in front of him. He could limit himself to these. He could just know this much and then get back to the present. That would be enough for him. 

The top one was Jim. The cover sheet had his photo stapled to it. Along with a small summary of his life. Steve tried not to get his hopes up, but when he saw the word “deceased” stamped next to status, his heart sunk just a little bit.

> **James “Jim” Morita**  
>  **D.O.B.:** October 20, 1919  
>  **Birthplace:** Fresno, California, USA  
>  **Status:** Deceased.

There was a small paragraph underneath it describing his service and a picture of him older as well as a picture of him from when he was in the Commandos. According to the attached pages and newspaper clips, Morita had never married. He served until he was forced into retirement and then moved to LA County upon retirement. He was buried with honors in Arlington and was survived by an obscene number of nieces and nephews. His obituary didn’t mention Steve at all, but talked about how he “served with distinction” during World War II as a Howling Commando. He lifted up a picture of a middle aged man in uniform.

“Thanks, Jim.” Steve told the file quietly. 

He set it to the side and wiped at his face, which was already wet with tears. The last picture in the file had been an elderly Japanese man surrounded by over two dozen people. All of them were grinning widely and a gigantic ‘90’ was on the wall behind him. It was only a couple years old. Steve touched it softly and then closed the file. 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Steve told himself. 

> **Timothy “Dum Dum” Aloysius Cadwallader Dugan**  
>  **D.O.B.:** April 11, 1912  
>  **Birthplace:** Boston, Massachusetts, USA  
>  **Status:** Deceased

“Aloysius?” Steve snorted. He grinned. That would have been nice to know in 1944. 

Dugan had married a pretty blonde woman. Her smile and face were much kinder looking than the older Dugan that stared back at him. Her name was Mary. They had one child, who’d died young sometime in the late sixties during a war in Vietnam. 

“Jesus.” Steve groaned. His stomach ached as he thought about it. “Another one?” 

Steve frowned thinking of what that must have been like for him. The next picture tugged at his heart. It was from sometime in the nineties, from the look of it. Dugan was in a uniform that had straining buttons and ribbons that filled the entire left side of his jacket. Next to him were older looking familiar faces. Morita with a shock of grey hair underneath his cover. Gabe just old enough to start looking hunched over. Falsworth looked ancient. He almost flat out didn’t recognize Dernier. He was balding and pale and using a walker. They all looked insanely happy. 

“Glad to see the team still got together.” Steve felt weird talking into the silence, but it made the exercise easier to get through. It felt like the team was sitting here with him telling him about the lives they got to live while Steve, according to Fury, sat frozen beneath the ice. 

> **Gabriel Jones**  
>  **D.O.B.:** August 14, 1918  
>  **Birthplace:** Macon, Georgia, US  
>  **Status:** Deceased

> **James Montgomery Falsworth**  
>  **D.O.B.:** January 2, 1914  
>  **Birthplace:** Birmingham, England, UK  
>  **Status:** Deceased

> **Jacques Dernier**  
>  **D.O.B.:** January 2, 1911  
>  **Birthplace:** Marseille, France  
>  **Status:** Deceased

Steve flipped the paper from one side to the other. It didn't tell him much more than that. The last sheet had a single picture of each of them and a short service record. It was even redacted. Nothing about after they retired. Nothing about their personal lives. They’d each served for a long time, with Gabe going into a political role later in his career. But nothing that Steve would’ve considered personal. He stared at the page angrily and shook his head. 

There was a file on Peggy too, as well as Howard. Choosing between the two, he settled for reading Howard's first. His mind still thought he'd just spoken to Peggy. He hadn't necessarily expected them to be alive when none of the others were, but the knowledge that Howard had died in a car crash hurt Steve. The file even had pictures from the investigation. He avoided looking at those. Howard and Peggy's files were both quite thicker than the others. It was filled with pictures of the two of them together, eventually marrying other people, and being a part of each other's lives. It made Steve happy.

Stark had a son. There wasn’t any information on him included, but his name was Anthony, he went by Tony, and, apparently, he was the one now running Stark Enterprises. Steve would have to introduce himself. He didn’t know if Howard even mentioned creating Captain America, but his family should know. 

Peggy’s file was the last in the stack. It followed her career, which apparently had been stellar. She worked at the S.S.R. until it became S.H.I.E.L.D., of which she was a founding member. The company was dedicated to maintaining peace. Steve liked the information they’d included in her file. It didn’t occur to him that it had been placed there purposely until he got to her status sheet. 

> **Margaret “Peggy” Elizabeth Carter**  
>  **D.O.B.:** April 9, 1921  
>  **Birthplace:** London, England.  
>  **Status:** Alive. 

Alive. Steve read the word over and over until it lost all meaning. 

It was like a physical blow to his chest. Peggy was still alive. She had to be 90 years old, but she was alive. Here. In this world. Steve set the file down and stood to pace the living room. She was alive. He kept repeating it over and over in his head until it started to feel real. Fury had mentioned her involvement in the founding of S.H.I.E.L.D. and how she had been a high ranking agent, Director even, until she finally chose to retire in the early 90’s. Steve had just assumed. He’d thought somebody would have told him if Peggy Carter was actually still alive in 2011. That seemed to be something worth mentioning to a man untethered and flailing in time. But maybe that was just him. Steve sat back down at the table and flipped through her file again.

* * *

Steve should’ve expected Fury to visit, but it still came as a surprise when the older man walked into the cabin without so much as a knock or greeting. Steve had been working on the punching bag and hadn’t exactly been pleased by the interruption. Grudgingly, he followed Fury out into the living room towards the couches and took a seat across the coffee table from him. 

“Did you need something, sir?” Steve asked.

Fury absolutely did, but Steve knew better than to expect him to ask for it directly.

“I wanted to discuss your next mission.” Fury hedged.

“Mission, sir?” Steve hadn’t remembered reenlisting. 

“Getting you back into the world.” Fury nodded. “We’ve been working, internally, on a set up we think would work for you. Civilian-style for now, until you think you’re ready for anything more than that. Our team is prepared to bring you back, Captain.”

“Back to New York?” Steve imagined a life outside of the forcefield. One with library access.

“Back to life.” Fury corrected.

“I wasn’t aware that was being debated.” Steve raised an eyebrow. “Considering that I’m already here.”

There was a wide gulf between Steve and Fury in which a lot of unsaid things seemed to stay trapped. Steve knew what Fury didn’t know about him. But Steve didn’t even know what state he was in. The only information anyone had given him was pertaining to a past that didn’t even matter anymore. These people and that war might be current in Steve’s mind but they were decades old to anyone alive now. Besides him. And he had much more pressing concerns.

“I was hoping for access to a library. Or newspaper.” Steve requested. 

“For? If you have a request I can have it brought here.”

“You said it yourself, getting me back into the world.” Fury didn’t immediately meet Steve’s smile. “I figure I should put in the work. Get to know the 21st century. Right?”

Fury finally nodded. “Of course. I’ll see what I can do.”

Which wasn’t a yes, and Steve wouldn’t hold his breath while waiting for it, but it was progress.

* * *

“Is The Shadow still on the air?” Steve asked the doctor. She’d proven somewhat willing to talk about the present day. It was a way for Steve to prod that people would expect. Use the past to ask about the future. “I used to listen to that show every weekend. It was one of my favorite shows.”

The doctor, an older woman with white hair and yellow teeth, smiled at him. “Was it?”

“Sundays at 5:30.” Steve matched her smile.

“It’s not on the air anymore.” She told him. Of course not.

“What’s the most popular program now?” Steve asked her. 

“It depends on what you like to watch.” The doctor shrugged. She made a note of something on her pad and Steve frowned. She noticed and tried to give him a reassuring look. “Don’t mind me. These notes are nothing but a tool to help me help you.”

“Can I read them?” 

“I don’t suppose they’d help you very much.” She smiled warmly, which didn’t lessen the refusal.

“Oh.”

“I wanted to talk to you about how you’re doing.” She explained.

“I’m doing fine.” Steve would be doing better out of this cabin. Out of the forcefield. He flexed a hand as surreptitiously as he could, closing and opening it repeatedly. The movement helped him to relieve some of the tension. “Well, as fine as could be expected.”

“It was a very trying situation.” The doctor murmured. Her eyes were watching him. Steve shifted.

“I didn’t choose it, obviously. And it’s disconcerting.” Steve shrugged.

“But you’re fine.” He didn’t miss the sardonic smirk on the Doctor’s face and resented her for it.

“Yes.” He ground out.

“You seem a little agitated.” She pointed out, face morphing into concern.

Of course he would be agitated. He was a prisoner of his own government in a cabin that he didn’t even get to know the location of. His only contact so far had been with medical professionals and a shadowy government agent who appeared to just show up and depart whenever he wanted to. And nobody wanted to even give Steve access to a library, so clearly they were hiding something from him. Maybe they thought he wouldn’t approve. Maybe this was another lie and everything around them was constructed in some godforsaken warehouse. Maybe they lost the war and this was Hydra messing with his brain. Maybe he wasn’t even really alive and this was what hell was like.

“I’ll have to tell Nick you called him shadowy.” The doctor smiled. Steve’s eyes went wide.

“I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.” Steve admitted. He hadn’t realized he had been.

“Don’t look so panicked, Captain.” She smiled. “It’s nothing that will get you in trouble. Though, I promise you that I am S.H.I.E.L.D. and not Hydra. You can trust me.”

Steve swallowed. “Ok.”

“And, for the record, we’re in Colorado.” The information shouldn’t have made Steve laugh, but it did.

“You know, I haven’t even been to Colorado before.” Steve told her.

“Your tour never stopped in Denver?” She questioned him.

“No, ma’am.” Steve shrugged. “I think Senator Brandt wanted to push west to L.A. for the money.”

The doctor seemed amused. “At least politics hasn’t changed in seventy years.”

“It hasn’t?” Steve didn’t know if this was useful information, but disappointment caught in his chest. Maybe he hoped for progress. Or at least some progress. Something. But he hadn’t exactly left America in the most hopeful of places. There had been fear. Animosity. It had been wartime, after all. Steve wondered what that meant for people like him.

“Does the D.P.D. still have an office within the S.S.R.?” He asked her.

“Excuse me?” The Doctor paused in making a note to stare at him. 

“I mean, S.H.I.E.L.D. and not the S.S.R.” Steve grinned. “Sorry.”

The doctor cleared her throat. “Steve. Don’t take this the wrong way. But that’s a stupid question.”

“It is?”

“You’re asking me about the Demon Protection Division?” She gestured for him to confirm it.

“Yes, ma’am.” Steve nodded. The Howlies had had one. Every unit had a liaison from the D.P.D. and used them pretty liberally throughout the course of the war. Theirs had been named Namor and he’d saved Steve’s life over a dozen times.

“I wouldn’t do that anymore.” She said curtly.

“So S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t work with the D.P.D. anymore?” Steve pressed. She looked frustrated.

“Tell me, Captain.” The Doctor set her pad down and leaned forward. “What do you remember of the Churchill Order?”

“I remember it being passed.” He remembered the fury. Anger. Betrayal. He set it all aside with a shrug.

“And the Laws?”

“They came not long after.” Steve nodded. “I was in Europe and so didn’t see them in effect. But I remember the news coming from our friends back home. And the reports. There were a lot of arrests those first few months.”

The Doctor waited a beat. “Three weeks ago the Supreme Court maintained those laws as valid.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that demon rights are exactly where you left them.”

“Oh.”

“So, no. It is unlikely that you will have a demon liaison while you work for S.H.I.E.L.D. since it is a government organization that doesn’t recognize non-human species as having the same rights as humans. That would include demons.”

“That’s…a lot.” Steve had to wait to find the right words and didn’t quite get there. A lot felt inadequate. 

“I’ll excuse the ignorance.” She picked the pad back up and relaxed. “You had no way of knowing.”

Steve nodded. “I saw a sign in Manhattan that said it was a Human Only Zone. I just didn’t think-”

“Yes, those are strictly enforced. Which is the thing we need to discuss. Your blood test.” She smiled at him and heaved a sigh as if they were moving on from an extremely troublesome topic. “To enter in secure government facilities, you must submit to the palm scan. This biometric system does require you to include a blood typing in your profile.

“I don’t like needles.” Steve tried to hedge. The doctor just smiled. He was starting to hate it.

“We’ll find a way to get what we need from you, Captain.” She smiled. “Maybe a cheek swab?”

Steve swallowed but nodded. “I could probably make that work.”

The doctor’s smile increased in intensity. Steve felt as if he’d just stumbled into a trap of some kind. But the kind like in Hansel and Gretel where he was still in part where they’d found the candy house. But the witch was just around the corner. He waited as the doctor fished something from her purse and pushed it across the table. It was a small hand held device. He didn’t recognize it as one he knew how to use. And it looked off. But he picked it up none the less and pressed a button on the side. At first it did nothing, but then the screen blinked on.

“It’s a phone.” The Doctor told him. “We’ll make it our little secret.”

Steve was confused. “Fury told me there was a phone on the wall in the kitchen?”

“This phone is more than just a phone.” The Doctor smiled at him. 

“Oh.”

“Has anyone told you about the internet?” She asked him. Steve shook his head. She walked him through which icons to hit and a website that she called Google came up. “Anything you want to know, just type it in there and Google will tell you the answer.”

Steve could hardly wait to use it. “Thank you.”

“Here’s the charger for it.” She pushed it across the table at him.

“Thank you.” Steve repeated. His mind was already on to what he would search for first.

“And when you’re ready,” the Doctor continued, “just call Elena- her contact is in there- and tell her Doctor Faustus approved you for a cheek swab. She’ll send someone out here to get it from you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some actual plot to go with the infodump of chapter 1!  
> That's all for today! Check back tomorrow for chapter 3!  
> And another shameless plug for Neutralchaos' beautiful artwork. The reason this whole thing exists. Also chaosdraws on tumblr!
> 
>  


	3. New York New York

The train got him in to New York when the sky was still dark and nobody was rushing around to get to work yet. It wasn’t quiet, a city like New York only had varying levels of cacophony and never silence, but there was a serenity in the low hum of activity around him.

It had taken him three days to get there. He’d learned a lot on his way back to the city.

  * How to hitchhike (from the young man outside Anderson, NC with the orange shoes).
  * How to make ramen in the convenience store microwave (also from the young man with the orange shoes.)
  * Sleeping on benches was expressly forbidden (from the officer that had shaken him awake at two in the morning).
  * Nobody in the 21st century recognized him (from the dozens of people that had helped him make the journey but hadn’t taken a second glance at his face).
  * He didn’t particularly like the 21st century (from a lot of people, but mostly that officer that had woken him up on his bench).
  * He really, really hated ramen noodles (from himself, via the young man who’d wasted a dollar on noodles that Steve thought tasted like garbage).



And then he’d gotten back in to the city and….hadn’t known what to do with himself. So he had decided to wander until something felt familiar but nothing did. He had no idea where he was. Fences blocked streets that should’ve been open. Even when he found a road he thought he knew, nothing on it was the same. It was different and unfamiliar.

Whole neighborhoods where he’d grown up were now behind guard stations with signs marked D.O.Z.

Demon Only Zone. Demon colony.

His old apartment building was now inside a Demon colony.

Steve could just barely see the corner of the street where his building would have been from the other side of the gates. The guards were checking everyone who walked out of them into what was apparently called the Buffer Zone so Steve couldn’t go inside. He’d have no means to get back out once he did. Instead, he found a bench with a decent vantage point and just watched.

“The freak show’s down by the docks.” Someone sneered. “Not here.”

Steve gawked at the man who spoke to him. He couldn’t help it. “Excuse me?”

 “We’re not here to be on display. This ain’t the zoo. Head to Central Park if you’re looking for one.”

He was a full sized demon, probably almost seven feet tall. His jacket, a patched tweed trench coat, had been modified to allow his wings to unfurl completely. His horns were both polished and painted with what looked like a gold film. It was chipping slightly so Steve could see the bone underneath. But it contrasted with the man’s pitch dark skin and glinted in the bright afternoon light.

 “I didn’t mean to stare.” Steve told him. “I was looking at the buildings.”

The man snorted. “Sure you was.”

 “I lived down that street. In 1945. Three buildings down on the left. In the rear.” Steve gestured to it.

“Really?” The man asked. He looked amused.

 “Yes.” Steve nodded. “At least until the war.”

That got the man to break out into an all-out laugh. “Dude, how many drugs are you on right now?”

Steve didn’t think he was actually meant to answer. He was tempted to, and opened his mouth to try and argue his own point when three others rushed over to their location. Two of them were smaller, and Steve almost mistook them for human until they got close. But they weren’t. Nor were they children. Just stunted somehow. Their wings held tightly under hooded jackets that were also used to disguise their horns.

“You know better.” One of them, a female with fair skin and bright blue hair, warned the first Demon. “Are you trying to get us all in trouble right now?”

The man seemed agitated. “He was staring.”

“Then let him.” She snapped. But she shot Steve a dirty look.

“It ain’t worth the trouble.” Another cut in. But he tossed a look of disgust over his shoulder at Steve.

“Last thing we need is to get arrested again.” The girl was trying to pull him, but he wouldn’t budge.

“We’re not at the MoMa,” he hissed. Steve could feel the agitation running off him in waves. “And yet we get motherfuckers coming around here every day acting like watching us is some kind of sport. As if we aren’t being watched all the time by the guards. Or the police. Last thing I want is one more person treating Demon existence like it’s a spectator sport.”

“You were talking to him.” His friend hissed.

“I was telling him to get lost.” The Demon taunted in a mocking voice. 

“Is there a problem over here?” Steve didn’t answer at first because there didn’t appear to be any reason the guards would come over to him. But when the silence stretched for too long and he looked over, he saw that all four demons and two guards were waiting for him to say something. The demons looked apprehensive while the guards looked nervous and tense. Steve shook his head.

“Just enjoying the weather, officers.” Steve smiled at him. 

“Officers?” The female demon snorted.

“What did you just say?” The guard snapped his night stick from his belt and held it aloft.

“She repeated the word 'officers.'” Steve answered for her. The policemen both turned back to him.

“Well, she shouldn’t be speaking.” The guard snapped.

“She knows better.” The second, clearly more junior, officer cut in. Steve’s smile froze in place.

“Well, she’s done nothing wrong. Neither have her friends. I think we’re all just going to be on our way.”

It almost worked. Steve got about thirteen steps before a hand landed on his arm. And when he turned it appeared that the demons had started trying to back away as well. Steve looked down at the hand on his arm and then the face of the guard who had dared to grab him. It was the younger one. He’d realized his mistake a second too late and Steve could tell that he was worried how Steve was going to react.

“Was there something else?” Steve asked him. The guard swallowed.

“We need to do a quick report and registry of all parties involved.” The officer told him.  “I’ll need to check your registration.”

“Why?” Steve didn’t have a card. He was technically dead. This wouldn’t end well.

“It’s protocol. For events involving three or more demon creatures, a full report and registration log is required to be submitted to the courts. For reference in case of future infractions.” The officer was pulling a small kit out of his belt to use for what Steve assumed was just that purpose. Noticing Steve’s panicked look, he frowned. “There a problem with you providing us with your registration?”

“Register the demons.” Steve snapped. “And leave me out of it.”

He swallowed. “I have to insist.”

 “And if I refuse?” Steve snarled, facing the officer head on.

“Who exactly do you think you are?” The officer snapped. Steve weighed his options and backed down.

And then he took off running.

 

* * *

 

He was in the booth of an anonymous old style diner in Brooklyn when Fury slid in to the seat across from him. To his credit, he didn’t look angry or smug about the situation. He didn’t even look particularly surprised. Steve had known he was coming- he’d told Steve to wait here- but his appearance still irritated Steve. He snagged a single fry off of Steve’s plate before speaking.

“So, how was the trip back?” He asked. Steve flustered slightly.

“Fine, sir.” Steve nodded.

“You know, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I encouraged you to get back into the world.”

“I figured as much right about the time they put the handcuffs on me.” Steve groused. Fury grinned.

It was an actual grin, which threw Steve off. He tried to force one of his own but couldn’t. Not at the moment. The past twenty-four hours had left him with one very clear goal and he needed to concentrate all of his energy on accomplishing it. Now that he was back in New York and having left the cabin so abruptly, Steve had a feeling his grace period with S.H.I.E.L.D. was coming to an end.

It hadn’t been a plan. It hadn’t even really been a true “fleeing” of the sort where he was trying to escape anything. Except for the force fields. He’d wanted to be on the other side of those, if at all possible. The whole thing was actually done on a whim. Steve had been for his daily morning run- usually fifteen laps around the perimeter of the force field- when he noticed that it was flickering. And then it was a simple matter of making a dive for it the next time it faltered. And then he couldn’t go back inside even if he wanted to. 

But then he was out. Free. But he had no money, no food, and no means of transportation. He had no plan and no means to execute one if he did. Only the clothes on his back and a vague sense that he was currently running East, which meant back towards New York.

“Did you read the files that we provided at the cabin?” Fury stole the water from beside Steve.

“Yes.” He nodded.

“And what did you think about them?”

“That there’s not a lot left for me here.” Steve shrugged. “But I think you knew that there wasn’t.”

Fury considered his answer for a second. “Seventy years is a long time.”

“And somehow not nearly long enough.” Steve grumbled.

“You’re not finding the 21st to be up to your exacting standards, Captain?” Fury leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “You’ve been out for less than a day. That’s pretty fast to make that choice.”

Steve scratched behind his ears. “I just don’t know that I get it yet.”

“You haven’t given yourself much time to adjust.” Fury pointed out.

“I guess there are certain things that I wanted to be the same. But they’ve changed. And things that I’d hoped would change.” Steve paused and then shrugged. “Well, they have changed too but not in the way that I wanted them too. They’re worse.”

Fury smirked at him. “I didn’t know you were an advocate for Demon rights.”

“I’m not. I just don’t like bullies.” Steve shook his head.

“See? Some things haven’t changed.” Fury smiled at him. Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. Me.” Steve shook his head.

“Can I give you some advice, Cap?” Fury snagged another fry and Steve just pushed the whole plate towards him. It didn’t taste right to him. And the texture felt weird on his tongue. Instead of actually answering Fury, he just nodded. “Let go of the past. There’s a whole great big world out there and you don’t even know the half of it yet.”

Steve smiled. “This another ‘Get Back Into the World’ Speech?”

“A suggestion that you make a choice. You were Steve Rogers. But who are you going to be now?”

“And you think my answer should be Captain America?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“No. You heard my sales pitch on that. And Captain America is a legacy that has endured for the past half century with or without you. No offense.” Steve shrugged. “You keep looking for the past. You need to start looking towards the future. What’s next for you?”

Steve paused for almost a full minute. “Steve Rogers died in 1945. It’s in the library. I looked it up.”

“You did?”

“And found out about the internet.” Steve informed him with a pointed look.

They lapsed in to silence. Steve swirled the straw through his Coke, another thing that for some reason just didn’t taste the same anymore. He missed the way it used to taste. Why was it different? Why did it all taste different? Why had everything changed for the worst? In frustration, Steve shoved the drink away from himself so violently that some splashed over the side of the glass onto the table.

It wasn’t that Steve meant to keep looking backwards, but the past was his only frame of reference. And nothing lined up. Nothing was where or was how it should be. It was as if he was seeing double and the two images just refused to line up. Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. He was trapped in a world that felt like a horrible parody of the one that he’d left. And he was alone.

“I want to be Captain America.” Steve said finally.

“That’s a big decision to make.” Fury acknowledged with a nod.

“Frankly, sir, I don’t know what else I have left.” Steve shook his head. “And Cap is who I want to be.”

The much was true. Steve wanted to serve. But Fury looked grim. “No.”

“Excuse me?” It was like a record scratch. Fury had offered him that same position a week ago.

“You’ll be off active duty and in recuperation until Doctor Faustus clears you for wearing anything remotely resembling your stars and stripes uniform.” Fury nodded a few times. “You might have forgotten, Captain, but she was the doctor you scared a few days ago.”

“I scared her?” Steve asked.

“You flipped a table? Stole her phone? Then fled the cabin?” Fury raised an eyebrow.

 “She gave me the phone. And I might have gotten heated but I didn’t flip a table.”

“Her report-”

“If that’s what her report says, sir, then it’s a lie.” Steve snapped. “She told me we were in Colorado, too. It wasn’t until I was out that I realized she’d lied about that too. It was in Georgia. I didn’t even take the phone with me when I left.”

Fury smirked. “We tell everyone that the cabin is in Colorado.”

“I want another Doctor. I’m not sure why but she’s lying. Have me interviewed again. You’ll see.”

“I’m sure that we will.” Fury nodded. Steve tried to look more confident than he felt. 

 

* * *

 

The interview was brief and the new psychologist was much more clinical than Doctor Faustus had been. Steve felt like he was being interrogated by a detective. His approach was much harsher and more direct- all pointed questions to direct Steve towards what he wanted to talk about.

“Doctor Faustus made a note about you questioning the nature of reality.” Was his opener. “Why?”

“Probably because I made a comment about how I was questioning the nature of reality.”

“How so?”

“Because I’m alive.” Steve shrugged. “Presumably.”

“And this means what in the grand scheme of reality?”

“Am I really alive?”

“All evidence indicates that it is so, yes.” The Doctor’s round, beetle like eyes drilled in to him. 

It had been an offhanded comment and part of a much longer rant about trust, Steve wanted to shout at him. But he held his tongue. Doctor Faustus had allowed a bias to skew her notes based on Steve’s emotional outburst. He wasn’t going to let that happen again. He kept a cool head and even managed a small, self-deprecating smile. The Doctor, who hadn’t even seen fit to introduce himself, did not react to it at all and continued to stare at him.

“How complete is your memory, Captain?” He held his pen poised to note his response.

“I believe it is entirely complete.” Steve nodded. “I don’t notice any lapses or gaps.”

The Doctor nodded. “Your plane was finally located approximately 350 miles off of the assumed course.”

“Was it?”

“Can you explain that?” Steve frowned. This didn’t feel very psychological.

“You assumed wrong?” Steve suggested with a shrug.

“It was based off of solid information provided by soldiers on the ground. Your bearing shifted very dramatically somewhere over the Atlantic.” The Doctor flipped a few pages in his notes. “And the reports we have of your last radio transmissions did not show that you relayed this information to the Agents on the ground.”

Peggy. “There was a struggle with Schmidt. During which, I assumed the Valkyrie was on autopilot.”

“But you did not note the change of course?” The Doctor asked.

“Is this in inquisition into the crash?” Steve asked him.

“Do you not remember the circumstances of the crash?” There was a short pause. “Please be detailed.”

Steve’s head ached. “There was the radio. I was talking to Peggy-”

“Agent Carter?”

 “Peggy.” Steve nodded. “And I knew I had to put the plane down.”

Steve played the memory over in his head. It was only a few days ago. Why did it make his head hurt to think about it? The pounding was coming from somewhere at the base of his skull and the more Steve tried to focus the more the pain pulsed and throbbed and completely distracted him. 

“I need a break.” Steve snapped finally.

“Rogers.”

“I’m fine.” He shouted. Steve rested his head on the table. “I just need a break.”

 

* * *

 

Steve was shown to quarters within S.H.I.E.L.D.’s massive complex. It was an entire skyscraper. The main floors were clearly offices, and the top floors were classified. But they stopped somewhere in the center of the building and Steve was led out into an area that looked almost like a hotel. It was a long anonymous hallway with doors on either side. The agent ahead of Steve pressed a key to a large black panel on the door. There was a soft beep, a green light, and then the door clicked open.

It was a standard room, though some of the amenities Steve didn’t recognize. A bed was standard. What looked like a bathroom. The closet was open and full of grey and black uniforms. A large window took up the far wall. A couch and desk and dresser. A box that Steve had learned was called a Television (“TV”) which had apparently almost entirely eclipsed the radio. He wondered if there was anyone he could complain to about that. Or petition to bring back The Shadow.

“Fury has approved your stay in this apartment until further notice.” The agent explained. 

“Thank you.” Steve nodded awkwardly. 

“Here’s your key, which is also your pass in to and out of the building, so keep it with you at all times.”

“I will.” Steve slipped it into the pocket of his black pants.

“It’s also a registration ID. Though, Director Fury wanted me to remind you to, and I’m quoting him here, ‘not be such an idiot about it’ if you’re stopped by enforcement again.” The agent looked amused. Steve offered a bashful smile because he knew the agent expected one. But he latched on to that key like a lifeline.

He was left alone, but not locked in. Steve appreciated that much. It was the first time since he was woken up that Steve actually felt certain that nobody was watching him. Or, at least not him specifically. There was obviously going to be surveillance in the building. But there was no force field. And no doctors. Steve felt like he could take a little bit of a deeper breath and not choke on it, despite the ever present smell. Truly, it permeated everything.

He celebrated his freedom by sleeping. He hadn’t meant to, but the moment Steve’s head hit the pillow he was out and completely dead to the world for almost twelve hours. When he woke up again it was dark, despite the window being left wide open. Steve refrained from turning on a light and instead stood at the window and looked down at the street below.

It was still New York, he told himself. It was still the same city he’d explored as he was growing up. The smell and the noise was worse but Brooklyn was still right over the bridge. And it was still right over the same bridge that he’d crossed when he was eighteen and life was just starting to open up before him. But now he was twenty-eight. Or ninety-three, depending on how you did the math. And the world was still right outside.

And it still felt like it was just a little too far beyond his grasp.

 

* * *

 

When Steve slammed into Fury’s office the next morning, the secretary behind the desk near about jumped out of her skin. And then she actually did jump out of her seat, trying to put herself between Steve and the door to the Director’s office. Steve ignored her entirely and shot through the door before she even managed a perfunctory polite greeting. 

Fury was behind his desk and seemed surprised, for once, that he wasn’t the one dropping in entire unannounced. Steve dropped into the seat on the other side of his ultra-modern desk and waited a beat to gather his thoughts before he forced any of them out into the open air.

“You want me to take a class?” Steve asked him. Fury grinned.

“I thought you could use an introduction into the 21st century way of doing things.” Steve snorted.

“From what I’m gathering, it’s fair game as long it’s sneaky and underhanded and inconvenient.”

“Quite the glowing recommendation you’re giving us.”

“You sent someone to fetch me, didn’t have them tell me for what, and then walked me into a class.”

“It felt like the easiest way to get you into the classroom.” Fury admitted with a casual shrug. “Our records indicate that you didn’t finish high school before becoming Captain America. You’re also about seventy years out of date on a lot of important geo-political and social factors that you’ll need to know if you’re going to be Captain America in any official capacity.”

“I’ve been using the internet.” Steve admitted. He held up a small handheld device. Another phone.

“Where’d you find that?” Fury asked him. 

“The computer lab. I had to ask for help at first but I think I’m getting it now.” Steve reasoned.

“We.” Fury seemed to be thinking for moment. “We don’t have a computer lab.”

Steve blushed. “Well. It said lab on the door. And it was full of computers. And very helpful agents.”

“Helpful?” Fury seemed amused.

“They gave me this.” Steve shrugged, holding out the phone again.

Fury smirked. “I see. Helpful.”

“So is the internet.” Steve pressed on. He hoped he hadn’t gotten anyone in trouble.

“Which is both not always trustworthy and hardly a comprehensive education.” 

“It’s not a very big fan of you. Or at least, the few sites that acknowledge your existence.” Steve smirked.

“It’s not my job to be in the public’s eyes.” Fury explained. But he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms somewhat defensively. “And while I’m sure you’ve enjoyed your foray into the technology of the current age, there’s the matter of your formal credentials.”

“I have a high school diploma.” Steve corrected him. “I graduated the May before the war began.”

Fury frowned. “You did?”

“George Washington High School in Brooklyn.” Steve nodded. He could probably still list his teachers.

“And you graduated?”

“Not with honors, but I got the job done.” Steve folded his arms. “And I went to college.”

That made Fury’s eyebrows shoot upward. “College?”

“Art school. And I didn’t graduate.” When he admitted that, Fury’s shock receded somewhat. “The war started and then going to school just didn’t seem to matter as much anymore. “Buck and I both just focused on helping the war effort.”

Fury seemed to sense the memory needed space and said nothing.

“I don’t need a stupid class.” Steve muttered finally. But he felt petulant and childish for it.

“I’ll tell you what.” Fury nodded. “We’ll compromise.”

Steve was apprehensive. “How so?”

Fury reached into his desk and pulled out a small black book. He tossed it on to the desk and gestured for Steve to take it. When he did, and he opened it, he saw that the whole thing was empty. Fury was still digging and finally came out with a matching small black pencil. Steve grabbed that too but waited for Fury to explain exactly what he was meant to be doing with them.

“Sir?”

“I’m going to list things now. And you’re going to keep a running list of things to catch up on.” Fury pointed a finger at him. “You can do it on your own. That’s fine. But you’re not suiting up until I see some progress.”

“Yes, sir.” Steve smirked.

“Don’t get cocky. I’m only doing this because you scared your poor teacher half to death. She quit.”

“Oops?” Steve offered. But Fury waved a hand at him dismissively.

“Just get ready to write. This is going to be a long list.”

 

* * *

 

He snuck out of the headquarters that night. 

He hadn’t been able to sleep. Just like back at the cabin, the nights were too quiet and Steve felt too trapped. Not like he was imprisoned, but he felt like his entire existence was being weighed down and there was nothing he could do to alleviate the pressure that was settling on to his chest.

He had too many lies that he was hiding.

He had too much riding on S.H.I.E.L.D. never, ever finding out exactly what those secrets were.

Steve was sure by that point that he wasn’t being watched. Monitored, maybe. But definitely in a more benign sense than the force field that had kept him pinned down outside Atlanta. Or Colorado. Wherever he had actually been at in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s cabin. Steve figured there was no harm in going for a short walk. It’s not like he was going to be carrying a gigantic sign announcing to the entire world that he was Steve Rogers, Captain America back from the dead. 

At first he wasn’t going to go anywhere special. Down the block. Maybe trace his route from the week before and meander his way into Times Square. Somewhere with people and noise and action where he wouldn’t feel quite so achingly alone. But then, once he made his way past the security gate and out on to the street, Steve found himself running again. Desperately. His feet carried him miles down the road until he was at the base of the Brooklyn Bridge.

He got halfway across it and stopped where they’d placed a few benches. There was a small group of people enjoying the view but it was also late enough that, for the most part, Steve was alone. Nobody there was actually paying him any attention. Steve leaned on the railing and took several large, deep gulping breaths. It tasted like saltwater and smelled like rotting trash. Again, all wrong.

He could be here, now, in the present. Or he could hold on to the past.

He needed to let go of that second vision. He needed to stop trying to be Steve Rogers.

He had to let Steve Rogers be dead.


	4. If It's In You...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate everyone who's giving this fic a chance! Make sure to check out my partner in crime for this reverse big bang Netrualchaos (also Chaosdraws on tumblr) because they make cool stuff like this:

The next morning he was back at Headquarter. Back in the Doctor’s cold and uncomfortable meeting room. And Steve was trying desperately to hold on to his resolve from the night before Steve Rogers was deceased. According to all S.H.I.E.L.D. files that had been turned over, a pretty thorough search on something called Google, and any other sources he could find Steve Rogers died shortly before the end of World War II in 1945. There wasn’t a conspiracy theory. There wasn’t some man in a tin hat who had guessed and could explain why the very much not deceased Steve Rogers was sitting down across from yet another S.H.I.E.L.D. psychologist explaining all of the various ways in which he’d disproved his own existence.

“I checked this thing called Wikipedia.” Steve explained. “But then another website said Wikipedia wasn’t the most trustworthy. Because people can change what it says? So I pulled a few books from the library and-”

His doctor raised a hand to interrupt him. “Steve. That wasn’t my question.”

“What was that again?” Steve rubbed his head. He remembered it. He hadn’t wanted to answer it.

“If you could explain what happened when the Valkyrie went into the ocean.” The doctor asked. Steve blanched. This again? He paused to piece together to right words.

“I-I d-I don’t.” Steve finally managed to get out. “I don’t really remember it all. Only pieces.”

“Which pieces?” He asked.

He asked too many questions, in Steve’s opinion. Not even the right ones. And his glasses were too small for his face. And too round. All of him was too round. Round face, round glasses, round bald head. Steve hated him. He didn’t let Steve entertain the idea that he might not actually exist at all. He’d tried to question whether it was possible to be a figment of his own imagination but the doctor had shut that right down. And this was the third time in the conversation that the Doctor had brought it back to the Valkyrie.

“It was dangerous. I couldn’t land the plane. Not with the weapons on board. So I put her in the water.”

“That’s it?” The doctor asked.

“Until I was in your care, yes.” Steve nodded. He scribbled a long line of notes on the pad Steve couldn’t read. It didn’t seem fair that Steve didn’t get to read what he wrote. He was the subject after all.

“And you don’t know how it is that you managed to survive, relatively unharmed?”

“I assume the serum had something to do with it, sir.” Steve shrugged. He kept his face straight. This was easily the tenth time since he’d woken up that Steve had been asked the same questions. His answers were always consistent. “But neither Stark nor Erskine really broke down what that consisted of. So I couldn’t say.”

“You understand why I continue to ask you the same questions?” The doctor asked finally.

“To see how I’m doing.” Steve nodded.

“And how are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” Steve gave him a shrug to go with it and hoped it was enough.

“Fine?”

“Yes. Can we be done?” Steve didn’t mean to be blunt but he’d met with different doctors so much that it was beginning to become the thing that would actually make him crazy.

“There was concern when you disappeared from the cabin-” The doctor started.

“I didn’t disappear. I just didn’t think S.H.I.E.L.D. needed to be notified that I left.” Steve rolled his eyes and watched the Doctor raise an eyebrow and make another note in his book. “Fury told me to get back in to the world. I was trying to do that.”

“You know no formal announcement of your return has been made.” There it was. The real issue.

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you make your press release before releasing Captain America on the world.”

“It’s a bit more than that.” The doctor tried to explain it but Steve was tired. He waited a beat.

“Can we be done?” He asked again.

“Yes. Fine.” The frustration seeped into the Doctor’s tone. “Agent Fury has asked you to go to his office.”

Steve left without another word, frustrated at the second chore. Most of the trip to Fury’s office, Steve tried to mentally work through what Fury needed from him now. The man lived life like it was a chess game. And he never let on exactly what his end goal was. When he got to the office, he wasn’t surprised to see the nervous look flash across the secretary’s face.

“I’m here to see Fury.” He told her. She tried to get in his way.

“I’ll just let him know that you’re here.”

“I’m just going to go in.” Steve corrected her. They both moved quickly towards the heavy office doors.

“Sir.” The secretary wouldn’t let Steve step around her and ended up a half step ahead of him into Fury’s office. “Captain Rogers is here to see you.”

Fury looked up, saw Steve already in the room, and smirked. “Captain. Good to see you.”

“I was summoned.” Steve reminded him with a nod.

“Did you enjoy your little trip out last night? I heard you went to check out the view from the Brooklyn Bridge.” Fury started, smiling weirdly. So that was what this was about. He snapped the file on his desk closed as Steve got closer. “I was curious how you were doing with that whole getting back into the world thing we discussed.”

Steve’s jaw clenched. “About as well as the last time we discussed it, sir. Yesterday.”

“I see.” Fury nodded.

There was a tense pause.

“Do you have something else to say?” Fury asked him. As if Steve hadn't been forced to come see him. But Steve did, so he nodded.

“I don't want any more psychologists.” Steve said simply. Fury looked at him in surprise.

“And I'm done talking about the Valkyrie unless you have the nerve to ask me directly.” Steve added.

Fury said nothing, but he nodded.

"Did you have something you wanted to ask me about the Valkyrie?" Steve continued, crossing his arms. Fury actually chuckled.

“Not yet.” Fury admitted with a casual shrug.

The silence stretched for longer than was comfortable. Steve stared him down and waited for Fury to say whatever he’d been called here to be told. Most likely some even they wanted him to traipse around in front of the cameras for. The quiet life wouldn’t last. He knew that. It was part of the gig. It came with the tights. But that didn’t mean he had to volunteer for the responsibility. If Fury really wanted him to do it, then he’d ask.

“I had something to add to your list. Something you can do outside of this building.” Fury nodded, mostly to himself. “To keep you busy.”

Steve waited for the other shoe to drop. “What’s that, sir?”

“Do you remember Goldie’s Gym?”

“In Brooklyn?” Steve was confused. That was his gym. Or, it was Steve Roger’s gym.

“That’s the one.” Fury confirmed. “I wasn’t sure if you’d remember it.”

It had been the only gym that would let Steve join up. Or train him to box. All the other places in town were either too expensive or considered Steve too small. B.J. let both Steve and Bucky work out there for the low price of cleaning the place at the end of the night when they were done. At the time, it had been a dream come true. Steve had such big dreams then. The Army. A few medals. A life that was his.

“I do.” Steve nodded once.

“I have an agreement with the owner.” Fury started. “He remembers your arrangement with his dad. He agreed to let you into the building for old time’s sake.”

Steve hated old time’s sake.

“I’ll do that, Sir.” Steve nodded once. “I appreciate that.”

Fury tossed some keys on to the desk between them. “Eight to ten. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

“Are you going to schedule all my time?” Steve asked him. Then, belatedly, he added. “Sir.”

Fury just looked at him for a second and then laughed. Steve didn’t react. Nothing felt right about him yet. He wasn’t a bad man. Steve had followed enough of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s inner workings over the past few weeks to know it was all well intentioned, if not entirely above board.

But Steve had a hard spot for a man who could try to win someone over with a lie. Trying to test him in the false room when he’d woken up had been a mistake. It might be petulant to still hold that against him, but Steve still felt the shock in his stomach. The pain and panic of knowing something was wrong, but not knowing what it was. Of escaping to find the deception was so much larger than he’d thought. Realizing that what he’d assumed was real was a lie. It made reality an incredibly fragile concept.

“I’ll be there.” Steve finally conceded. “If you need to find me, that’s where I’ll be.”

Fury snorted. “That or your new apartment.”

“Yeah, well, you know where that is too.” Steve snapped. He walked out of the room and was out the building before he let his fists unclench. He knew it was stress. He knew it was fear. He knew it was an adjustment period.

He just needed a little time to get his head back on straight.

* * *

It was chaos on the ground. Steve reacted to the onslaught based on pure instinct. It turned out that even alien invaders attacking the Manhattan of the 21st Century could feel familiar when he had the shield in his hands. If he ignored the giant portal-wormhole-to-another-dimension in the sky that currently had a man in a metal suit flying a nuclear weapon into it, then he could almost pretend he was back in the trenches. Captain America and his Commandos. At war again. Seventy years later.

“Stark really just did that?” Clint was incredulous. Steve’s jaw was hanging open.

Steve smiled to himself. “If It works, maybe we’ll get to cut out early.”

There was a pause where nobody wanted to refute him- nobody ever wanted to refute him- but clearly nobody thought that was actually possible. When Steve glanced skywards and watched another warship / alien creature come through the wormhole he had to consider that the damning silence of his teammates was right. Then a blast from an attacker that he couldn’t deflect really drove that point home. He landed on the ground with a thud.

_Captain_

He froze in the middle of the battlefield. Right there on the ground. Steve didn’t know where the sound had come from but it had rung loud as a gunshot in his head. Slowly, he made his way back to standing. He searched for the source of whatever had called for him but the only one near him was Thor. The Asgardian regarded him carefully.

“Do you need a break?” Thor teased him. Steve took a few steadying breaths.

“I could do this all day.” Steve tossed back. He tried to force a smile but knew it was weak.

Something felt different. After hearing it, he could sense it. There was something rising above the thick cloying scent of smoke and ask. Steve couldn’t say what it was but it was almost visceral. He felt it settling in to his chest. It made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. And then- out of absolutely nowhere- he knew where it was coming from.

The Tesseract.

“I’m ready. I can pierce the forcefield with the scepter.” Natasha said over the com link.

It was panic. Steve couldn’t describe the feeling any other way, even if he didn’t understand what was going on. The Tesseract couldn’t be destroyed. He glanced towards the glowing hole in the sky and knew it was nothing but destruction on the other side of it. Their demise. And Tony Stark. For what it was worth, Steve was willing to use Tony as a scapegoat for the panic in his chest. Tony couldn’t die either.

“No. Natasha. Wait.” Steve was racing up the stairs. He needed to get to the roof.

“I’m waiting Steve, but any minute.” Natasha was shouting. Steve had to run faster. He pushed himself.

“Wait for my mark.”

As soon as he got to the roof, he knew that he had been right. He saw and recognized the Tesseract and the pull it had on him. It had been the same in 1945. At first he paused outside the forcefield, waiting next to where Natasha stood watching the portal expectantly. The forcefield wouldn’t harm him, he knew. It was something else he couldn’t explain. And he couldn’t keep himself away from it. Natasha, not knowing what he was doing, didn’t have time to react to Steve’s reach until his hand was through the forcefield and wrapping around the cube itself.

“Steve, stop.” She screamed. Steve didn’t listen.

“It’s mine.” Steve snapped at her. He yanked the cube from it’s casing. The portal started to close.

“Rogers moved.” She shouted into the com. Steve ignored her. “Eyes out for Stark. Portal is closing.”

It was like a searing, scorching fire the burned from inside his bones outwards towards his fingertips. It was followed by a sensation that Steve could only liken to dying. It felt like he was slowly going numb; as the pain wasn’t replaced by anything but an empty feeling of nothingness. Emptiness. He stared down at the cube in fingers but didn’t feel anything. It glowed this fascinating blue but Steve saw so much more than that. Beyond the glow- just on the other side of it- were stars. A horizon line. Hills.

A voice in the back of his mind vaguely hummed the word: _Home_.

He couldn’t look away. It was calling to him and the longer it he watched the louder it got. _Home. Home._

The world behind the glow disappeared in an instant, ripped away to reveal that he was back on the rooftop in Manhattan. The pain was suddenly incredibly present. Steve could feel it coursing underneath his skin, pulsing, making standing impossible. He fell to his knees and clutched his side. It didn’t help. The pain didn’t recede and he could hardly focus on it anyway. He just wanted to see the world again. So he reached for the cube and almost had it but it was knocked further away.

“What is going on?” Natasha asked him sharply. Steve yanked the scepter from her hands.

“That’s not yours.” He roared, finally finding the power to stand.

“Cap. Stand down.” She held her hands up and stepped back, clearly scared. “Steve.”

“The Tesseract is mine.” Steve snarled at her.

He snarled and reached for the cube again. Natasha put herself in his way. “I can’t let you do that.”

Steve wanted to reach for the cube, but knew that he wasn’t going to get through Natasha to get it. He’d get taken down before he got to it. And he needed to get to it. That cube belonged to him. It had called to him. It was _his_.

“I’ve got Rogers on the roof.” Natasha was into her earpiece. “I think he’s been compromised.”

It came across his own earpiece so he heard Clint’s reply. “Impossible. Loki is in the tower with Hulk.”

“Well, we’ve got a situation on the roof.” Natasha hissed. Steve’s eyes went back to the cube.

Clint sighed audibly over the line and grumbled something that Steve couldn’t even make out with his improved hearing. There was a loud banging sound and then a crunching noise from Clint’s end before he finally responded. “Natasha, I’m headed to your location. I’ve got eyes on you.”

It was less than fifteen seconds between that confirmation and an explosion next to Steve’s head. He was knocked several feet backwards onto his back. The breath was forced out of his lungs and momentarily his ears started ringing. But he could also think clearly. And instead of being focused on the Tesseract and the stars, he remembered where he was and what he was doing. He remember the pain too as his pack seized with it. Steve looked up and saw Clint and Natasha staring down at him.

“What was that?” Steve asked them. Natasha reached a hand down to help him up.

“Well, it worked for me.” Clint shrugged.

“I hit him really, really hard on the head.” Natasha confirmed. “And now he’s fine. How you feeling?”

Steve winced and ignored Natasha’s hand to stand on his own. “I’m fine.”

“Sure.” Natasha nodded. He noticed that both of them were still armed and at the ready. Facing him.

“What happened?” He asked them. “Was that Loki?”

“That was something we were hoping you could tell us.” Clint told him.

“But, honestly, we’d settle for you explaining those.” Natasha reached forward. Steve had to force himself not to wince away from the reach, especially when the skin she touched was not just sensitive but felt raw. Like an open wound.

“Are those?” Clint leaned forward to investigate with her.

“I think so.” Natasha agreed. “Steve these look like horns.”

“They look like they’re already receding.” Clint marveled. They both looked thoroughly freaked out.

For a second none of them said anything. Clint and Natasha just waited as Steve felt his fingers along the ridge of his hairline, which was marked with two small but definitely present knots. The skin had just barely broken over each of them to reveal what felt like rough, pitted bone. Steve swallowed.

“Do you think the Tesseract did this?” He asked them quietly.

His nerves added authenticity to the question that wasn’t genuine. Natasha just stared at him but Clint seemed to consider the possibility. With the portal closed above them and the combatants down, New York was suddenly eerily silent. No sirens. No traffic. Just Steve and his lies against the force of Natasha Romanov’s stare. Finally, Clint shook his head.

“It’s not likely. I’ve been near that thing for months and haven’t seen anything like it.”

“We’ll figure it out, Rogers.” Natasha nodded. But she was still giving Steve a look he couldn’t decipher.

“Stark’s on the ground.” Clint reported, touching his ear. “Thor and Banner are headed that way.”

Steve swallowed. “Is Stark okay?”

Neither of them said anything, which Steve could interpret to be as a negative response. He rubbed his face. The glow of the cube was still calling to him. He could watch Natasha and Clint tense every single time he glanced towards it. After a few second standoff Natasha caved and gestured to the ground.

“We need to get to Tony.” Clint pointed out. He looked genuinely concerned. “I don’t know what the hell happened but this is definitely a Tony thing. And probably a lot more science people.”

“We need to figure out what happened.” Steve nodded through his nerves. They didn’t know yet.

“I don’t envy the amount of tests you’re about to be subjected to.” Clint smirked.

“Wouldn’t be the first time science found me fascinating.” Steve offered with a self-deprecating shrug.

Natasha was staring at Steve as if he’d grown more than horns. “Are you sure you can’t explain this?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Then let’s get to Stark.” She nodded and abruptly took off for the stairs. Steve and Clint followed.

* * *

“Okay, I’ve been alive again for approximately, like, fifteen seconds but let me see if I understand this.” Tony was sitting up on the pavement, battered but very much breathing. “You’ve got horns now.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. That happens at the end of the story.”

“And the beginning of it is…?”

“Slightly more complicated.” Steve agreed. He reached to help Tony stand up.

“Steve got handsy with the Tesseract.” Clint cut to the short with a roll of his eyes.

Tony’s brows shot up but he said nothing. Steve didn’t make a sound but felt the growths on his forehead burn, damning him. The rest of the group stayed silent. Over the course of a few minutes Tony visually processed the information going from shock to amusement and then back into something close to confusion. He looked between Steve, the rest of the Avengers, and then the destruction around them several times before shaking his head and sighing.

“Anyone got some more details for me?” He asked them.

“Symptoms were more present immediately after contact.” Natasha reported. “Rapidly fading.”

Steve swallowed. “I only touched it for a moment. Noticed the pain after I dropped it.”

“Natasha took it from him. He was crazed over it and ready to fight her to get it back. It took a cognitive recalibration for him to snap out of it.” Clint said, entirely too happy to report it. Steve frowned but didn’t correct him. Natasha gave Steve a look of concern, which was quickly becoming her default expression around him.

“I’m fine now.” Steve assured her.

“It was closer to three minutes of contact.” Natasha corrected him. Tony nodded a few times.

“Alright, we have a murderous alien currently unconscious in my living room. I think we should start with that and then work backwards into Unlocking the Secrets of the Universe over here.” Tony gestured towards Steve dismissively.

“The official stance towards S.H.I.E.L.D. until then being what?” Natasha asked.

“Not that Captain America grew demon horns. That’s for sure.” Tony snorted.

“On how we closed the portal?” She pressed.

“Scepter. Like you planned.” Tony shrugged. “Just keep it vague, Red.”

Natasha looked around. “I guess we need to get this called in. Get Agents on the ground to clean up.”

“Maybe let’s wait for them to realize that we didn’t nuke ourselves.” Tony offered. Everyone nodded.

“Still not okay with that.” Nat grumbled.

“I’ll pass your displeasure on to Fury.” Tony quipped.

“I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled with it either.” She snorted.

Steve just watched them go back and forth. People were starting to crawl out of wherever they had sheltered during the attack. He didn’t miss how the others shielded him, keeping his damage (and what was left of his recent growth) away from public view. He appreciated it. They moved straight to the tower where Loki was still unconscious. Bruce was still the Hulk and

“I vote for leaving him here and going for shawarma.” Tony suggested. “Let the agents get him.”

Steve was unconvinced. “Is that safe?”

“Aliens are down. I’m assuming we’ve got something here that can keep him place.” Tony shrugged.

“I know of something, yes.” Thor nodded. He looked down at his hammer and then over at Loki before setting it directly on his chest. Loki groaned but appeared to still be able to breathe. “You said that it was called shawarma? What beast is this shawarma? Is it delicious?”

Tony just laughed. “Very.”

The shawarma place was a tiny hole in the wall that, if it hadn’t been mostly destroyed by the alien invasion, wouldn’t have been Steve’s first choice but smelled great. Steve couldn’t keep any of it down, though, and found every bite that went towards his mouth made his stomach feel sour. It had to taste and texture like ash on his tongue, which he couldn't explain. Eventually, he gave up. He rested his chin in one of his hands and relaxed, letting the exhaustion win for a few minutes after the stress of the day. The others all seemed equally drained.

The workers hadn’t been expecting customers but were beyond excited to have them walk through the door. Even as they cooked they were cleaning debris from their partially destroyed storefront. They laid out massive amounts of food and claimed it was going to go bad if they didn’t eat it. So of course Steve ignored the pain in his gut and forced himself to eat two platefuls to avoid wasting any of it.

“Not to rain on everybody’s great day.” Tony said eventually, pointing to a TV in the corner.

“Looks like we’ve got company.” Clint finished. The footage showed S.H.I.E.L.D. armored vehicles.

“Only a matter of minutes until Fury demands an update.” Tony tossed a fry on his plate, disgusted.

Natasha sat forward suddenly, hand to her hear. She dropped her shawarma on the table with a disgusted sigh and started cursing at the plate in Russian. Clint moved to reassure her and stole the remainder of her pita while doing it.

“Tony should know better than to mention Fury. He always knows..” She nodded in agreement.

“I’ve got Fury and Hill both asking for a sitrep.” Natasha tossed a small earpiece on to the table between them. “They’ve finally caught on that it’s done.”

Tony snorted. “I feel like the lack of a mushroom cloud should’ve tipped them off. You’re welcome.”

Steve’s temper flared and he let the hand drop from his chin. “Is that really the priority right now?”

Tony scoffed a laugh at him. “And you have the nerve to call _me_ selfish.”

“You are.” Natasha reminded him.

“Hello? Nuke. Wormhole. Literally an hour ago.” Tony motioned to the sky with his drink. “I feel like that buys me, at a minimum, sixty-seven more hours before I get to be called selfish again.”

Steve sighed and rubbed his chin. “Fine, Tony.”

They went back to silence. Steve leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. The others appeared to be waiting to hear what he had to say, but Steve didn’t want the pressure of that. It shouldn’t be his call. What he had done- what covering for him would be asking them to do- was too much. The cost was too high. The workers in the kitchen were continuing to clean from the monumental order but were far enough away that Steve didn’t worry about them hearing what he had to say next. He took a deep breath and went to speak.

“Well, we clearly can’t tell General Chang the truth.” Tony cut in before Steve could speak.

“Tony.”

“What? We can’t.” Tony swallowed his bite of Shawarma and kept going. “It’s your ass, Cap.”

Steve nodded. “Exactly. It’s my ass.”

“Tony’s right. We can’t tell him.” Bruce agreed.

“Nobody at S.H.I.E.L.D. will be on your side.” Natasha shrugged.

“It was a side effect of the Tesseract. It doesn’t mean anything.” Steve tried to defend himself.

“Really?” Tony asked him. “So if I took some DNA from you and did a spectrum analysis-”

Steve sighed. “Tony, I don’t know what that means.”

“It means I can look at your DNA and tell you whether or not you’re human.” Tony snapped.

Steve said nothing. Nobody around the table seemed overly surprised.

“We’re just calling the genetic anomalies as we see them, Cap.” Bruce said quietly.

Steve swallowed. It was out. It had lasted all of a month in the 21st century. Steve looked to where his shield lay against the wall of the restaurant. They were going to try and take it from him. They were going to tell him he couldn’t be Captain America anymore. That he didn’t deserve to be a hero anymore. That he wasn’t allowed to do anything. That he was nobody.

“I’m human.” Steve tried to insist.

“But if you’re not…” Natasha pursed her lips and winced.

“I’m not exactly up on protocol but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be suiting up again any time soon.” Clint dragged his foot off of Natasha’s chair and stared down the table at Steve. “You’d be on the Raft at best. Ghosted at worst.”

“We’ve made a lot of progress since you went all Kamikaze on us, Cap, but not nearly enough.”

“I’m not asking you guys to cover for me.” Steve started. Tony started to stand, wincing the whole time.

“Exactly, Cap.” His shrug was somehow even more glib in the suit. “You’re not asking.”

“Technically we don’t know anything.” Natasha nodded.

“You say you’re human.” Clint shrugged, holding up his hands. “We trust you.”

Steve went to protest but was met with a round of dismissive waves. Tony shook his head. “Stop.”

Steve swallowed a few times and allowed himself to be grateful. But he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve their sympathy. Or their understanding. He had endangered them all. His very existence was going to be a danger to them all and could cost them everything. Especially if they got caught lying for him. They were risking too much to lie for a demon.

“But S.H.I.E.L.D. will have questions.” Steve tried.

“We tell them it was the scepter. Like Tony suggested.” Natasha started. “I was right there. They’ll have heard me on the radio saying that much. We tell them I hit it with the scepter and the wormhole closed. End of story.”

Clint nodded. “Nobody even knew you were on the roof.”

“I certainly didn’t.” Tony agreed, pointing at himself. Steve snorted.

“Don’t say it Tony.” Natasha warned him.

“Because I was in space. With the nuclear device our own government shot at us.” Tony let a disgusted look pass over his face and took a breath. “It’s really not about me. Or even about you, Cap. It’s about the fact that we’ll save more lives as a team than we will if they shut us down.”

“Agreed.” Bruce nodded. Natasha sighed.

“I hate to admit it. But he’s right.”

“And who knows.” Clint continued. “Maybe we just won for good and we’ll never see each other again.”

From there they lapsed back into silence. Steve was slightly more comfortable in it now and even managed a few bites of food despite it tasting like ash on his tongue. He hated shawarma, apparently. He made eye contact with Tony from across the table only to get a smirk and wink in response. Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the light feeling that was settling into his chest. He might be okay.

“You’ve been quiet, Thor.” Steve looked towards the blonde Asgardian. He seemed tense.

“Asgardians don’t have the same relationship with these creatures that you call Demons.” Thor admitted. “It’s difficult for me to see why anyone should punish you for it. You are a good soldier, Captain. And a fearsome fighter.”

Tony snorted. “What Point Break is saying that he’ll also keep your secret.”

“Yes.” Thor nodded earnestly. Steve smiled.

“We all have our demons, Steve.” Tony shrugged. “You just also happen to _be_ one.”

Bruce snorted. “You’ve been sitting on that one since you woke up, haven’t you?”

“You’ve done better.” Natasha assessed, making a so-so motion with her hand.

“I expect better from you, frankly.” Clint agreed. There was a short pause before every started laughing.

“I’ve changed my mind, this team is awful and I hate you all.” Tony stood gingerly, groaning as he rose. He was laughing and there was no heat behind the words. Tony picked up his drink and raised it in a toast. “To me no longer being the only severely messed up Avenger.”

Steve snorted. “To the Avengers.”

“To the Avengers.” The rest of them echoed.

“God help us.” Clint snorted.

“Hey. Hey. No offending our dear spar-spangled leader. I hear his kinds not on such great terms with the Big Guy Upstairs.” When Steve went to protest, Tony held up a hand. “It’s ok, Capsicle, neither am I.”

Natasha stood. “On that note. We’re all needed back at the Tower. Fury’s orders.”

“Well, that sounds ominous.” Tony grumbled.

“Probably something to do with the Nosferatu wannabe we left pinned in my previously pristine-“

“Tony, shut up.” Natasha cut him off. To the rest of them, she nodded towards the door. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The piece that inspired this fic:  
> 


	5. Doctor to My Disease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr!)
> 
> Enjoy! Thanks for those of you that have read this far!

Tony’s lab was bordering on unseasonably warm and Steve wondered if it was done purposely so that Tony could work in a tank top and not get cold. The rest of the building hadn’t been that warm. Steve had thought that the lobby was downright chilly. But by the time they’d gotten behind the glass walls of Tony’s lab, the temperature had creeped up past comfortable and warm through to hot.

“Do you always keep it this warm in here?” Steve asked, tugging at his collar.

“Sorry, I thought you’d like it warmer.” Tony quirked a smile in Steve’s direction. He scowled.

“Very funny.”

“JARVIS, cool it with the fire and brimstone.” Tony instructed the air.

“Right away, sir.” The voice that responded appeared to come from nowhere. Steve glanced around the room to look for a person or speaker of some kind but couldn’t spot one.

“Don’t mind JARVIS.” Tony waved a hand, attention already moving towards a gadget of some kind.

“You said you needed me for something?” Steve asked him.

Tony nodded a few times before turning to gesture to a stack of paperwork on the edge of the table. Steve went to read it all but it was all Finnish to him. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it at all. “What is this, Tony? Am I supposed to understand it.”

“Genetic profile. Yours. To be slightly more specific, one of yours.” Steve looked down at the paper.

“I didn’t give you a sample to test.” Steve pointed out. Again, Tony seemed less than concerned.

“Privacy is a lie nowadays, you should start to accept that now and save everyone time later.”

“Tony.” Steve said warningly.

“Alright, we’ve got about thirty minutes until the Asgardians take the Tesseract back to Oz.”

“I don’t think that’s what it was called.” Steve acted confused. But he remembered that movie.

“Jesus.” Tony’s sigh of annoyance was enough to make playing dumb worth it. Steve just smiled innocently, dropping the indecipherable paper back on counter. It was useless to him. “We’ve got a conversation to have before we get there.”

His tone was serios. Steve dropped the smile and nodded. “If this is about what happened-”

“I’m assuming you were already aware that you had demon DNA.” Tony interrupted him. His tone was light but sharp in a way that told him this was more serious than Tony was letting on. Steve’s mouth went in to a straight line. He nodded. “That wasn’t in my dad’s notes. Nor Erskine’s. But it wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility that they did this to you.”

Steve didn’t confirm or deny it. He didn’t have to.

“You see at first I thought maybe you were as surprised as the rest of us.” Tony started.

“Yesterday? With the Tesseract? I was.” Steve insisted. “Tony, I had no idea that was going to happen.”

Tony laughed sardonically. “And here I thought the most destructive thing my dad made was me.”

“It was a different time. Desperate times.” Steve tried to defend him. Howard was his friend.

“I don’t think you realize quite what they’ve done to you.” Tony snapped.

Steve’s jaw snapped shut at the tone. He swallowed. “The consequences were made clear.”

“Does Fury know?” Tony asked him. Steve shook his head.

“Nobody in the 21st knows but you.” Steve admitted.

“And Bruce. He’s the one who ran the test, actually. Biology is more his ground than mine. He found the results. He couldn’t be here because he doesn’t like New York on a good day and this. ” Tony nodded a few times. “This is not a good day.”

Steve shook his head. “I just wanted time to figure out how to-”

“Did you know how Bruce became the Hulk?” Tony challenged. “He was trying to be you. Well, maybe not the stars and stripes. But he was trying to replicate Erskine’s formula. It was never going to work without your secret little ingredient, but nobody would have guessed. Nobody ever even considered the possibility.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve said it quietly. Tony threw his pen.

“Secrets like this ruin lives.” Tony shouted.

Tony was clearly more stressed than he had been trying to let on before. Steve swallowed. This was going to end in S.H.I.E.L.D. knowing the truth. With Steve’s only chance at a life that meant anything in the 21st century being dashed before he was ever even officially confirmed to be alive. The look on Tony’s face was close to murderous. It was pure fury.

“It’s only going to get worse.” Tony said finally.

“What?”

“You’re dying. Right now you’re not ageing. You’re strong. A super soldier.” Tony clicked a button to bring something up on the large TV screen. “They didn’t see it with their technology at the time, but even if you’d survived the war you’d have died in the fifties. The formula isn’t stable. It’s breaking down. And if I’m right, and I think I am, the Tesseract kicked that whole process in to warp drive.”

“In to what?” Steve was confused. The screen appeared to just show squiggled next to a declining chart.

“It’s sped the whole process up. Something about touching it.” Tony mimed a dramatic explosion.

“I don’t understand.” Steve shook his head. He felt fine. He felt better than fine.

“This serum is eating you alive. Eventually, it is going to kill you. It’s only a matter of time.”

Steve shook his head. “You can’t say that with a single test. There’s nothing to suggest that I’m-”

“I'm as sure about it as I am about anything else. Are you doubting me? Headaches at first. You’re already getting those, right?” Tony guessed. Steve swallowed. He’d been under a lot of stress lately. His headaches were stress related. “That’s because the increased heat from your boosted metabolism has slowly been frying your neurons.”

Steve swallowed. “Tony-”

“All of your other organs will follow suit. Brain’s funny like that. Hates to be the only one at a party.”

"You're sure?" Steve asked him.

"I'll run some additional tests if you're really wanting to strain our friendship." Tony crossed his arms. Steve wanted him to do it, so he didn't cave.

“You have to tell Fury. Don’t you?” Steve cut to the chase.

“Why wasn’t someone told seventy years ago?” Tony demanded.

“Because Captain America needs to be a human.” Steve answered by rote. That’s what Brandt had declared. Over and over. It was practically stitched into the lining of his uniform. “Captain America is the pinnacle of human perfection. He is not, and cannot, be a demon. He is, and will always be, human. That’s what they said. The people who developed Captain America. Developed me. They insisted on it.”

Tony rubbed his face. “Admitting it wasn’t going to win you any supporters, that’s for sure.”

“It still won’t.” Steve pointed out, thinking of the Demons he’d met in Brooklyn.

“Then we keep it under wraps for now.” Tony said simply. He sighed. “You’re Captain America.”

Steve could  have wept in relief. To have someone know- not just assume but have actual concrete proof- and still call him Captain America. Tony was the second person in the entire world to have ever done it. Steve’s breath caught in his chest and he smiled at the ground.

“Thank you, Tony.” Steve said quietly.

“One condition.” Tony demanded. Steve would have agreed to anything.

“Ok.” Steve nodded.

“If it gets bad- if we need to be concerned- you call. No secrets, ok?” Tony extended a hand. “Promise.”

Steve shook his hand with a smile. “No secrets.”

* * *

Steve didn’t understand why it was necessary for them all to be present for Loki’s banishment to Asgard. Being that close to the Tesseract again set him on edge and left him feeling like someone had taken a hammer to his stomach. It was disquieting. If he’d been given the choice, he would have liked to have missed the whole thing. But Fury had kept his promise and a bike was waiting for him with a big and supplies for a drive that even Fury hadn’t been told the destination for.  


Three days. That’s what he’d  bargained for. Three full days with nobody watching him. Nobody asking him questions about his past or his motives or what he was going to do next. Steve would have agreed to almost anything to get it. Fury had no idea what he could have leveraged Steve for to trade for it. Or maybe he did and he was just being kind. But kind wasn’t exactly Fury’s wheelhouse from what Steve had seen so far.

“Sure we can’t get you a plane, Captain?” Fury asked him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“No, sir.” Steve shook his head. “Thank you for the bike.”

Fury glanced towards it. “No chance of you telling me where you’re taking her.”

“Far enough to get back in time if I leave right now.” Steve reasoned.

“Have you given any more thought to what I suggested for your next move?” It was pointed. Steve hedged with a shrug and bashful smile because, being honest, it hadn’t been in his mind for more than ten minutes since Fury had offered him the position. Priorities and all that.

“Cap’s moving out of Brooklyn? Nobody tell them. They’ll melt down the statue. Riot.” Tony smiled.

“No, Tony.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’m trying to convince the Captain here to take up the gig full time. In D.C. at the Triskellion.” Fury looked between Stark and Steve, seemingly taking notice that neither of them appeared to be hurling insults at each other.

“D.C. isn’t bad if you can stand the stench.” Tony pinched his nose. Steve was confused.

“Of the trash?”

“Of the politicians.” Tony gave an exaggerated shudder and Steve did him the favor of laughing.

“Can’t be that much worse than Manhattan.”

“Manhattan smells like dirty money. Washington smells like cheap money.” Tony tried to explain.

“That’s enough, Stark.” But Tony ignored Fury and clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“We’ll go down. You and me. I’ll show you around. Take in a few of the sights.” Tony turned them away from Fury and slung an arm around Steve’s shoulder as if they were old friends. “Fury over here might have work on the mind but I can show you the side of the city that’s not the inside of his office.”

“I’m not sure.” Steve repeated.

“I promised Bruce a ride to the airport. He’s catching the next flight back to poverty.” Tony made a face.

“Charity work, Tony.” Bruce corrected. “I do charity work in countries with underdeveloped healthcare.”

Tony snorted. “Have you seen middle America’s health care, Bruce? They could use your help.”

“Tony.” Bruce’s tone was warning.

“But either way, Cap. Before you take your little vacay, let me take us down to D.C. on the Stark Jet. We’ll made a quick day or two of it and have you back in a jiffy.” Tony’s grin was all humor and no substance. Steve shook his head.

“Maybe after I get back.” Steve offered. “I’ve got something I really need to do first.”

Bruce was eyeing Steve with apprehension. “It’s really good to meet you in person, Steve.”

“You too, Bruce.” Steve shook his hand.

“And I hope that everything works out for you.” Bruce said, more quietly.

“Someday, we’ll have to talk.” Steve answered, also pitching his voice softly. “I feel responsible.”

Bruce waved a hand to shush him. “Don’t. It’s not your fault. But maybe next time I’m here-”

“Hopefully under better circumstances.” Steve smiled. Bruce’s return smile was equally genuine.

“I hope so too.”

“If you two are done flirting _right in front of me_.” Tony snapped, affronted. “Then I think it’s time to break this party up. Cap, I’ll have my people contact your people. By that I mean S.H.I.E.L.D., I think. Or is there a summons that work for you? If I just start chanting in Latin can you hear it?”

Bruce smacked Tony’s shoulder. “Quit it. Bye, Steve.”

“Travel safe.” Steve waved. They climbed in to Tony’s fancy convertible and took off.

It was just Steve and Fury left. Clint and Natasha had driven off together, not that Steve had asked where they were headed to. Steve had a feeling they wouldn’t have told him if they did. Steve didn’t even know if Fury knew, as both appeared to exchange as few words with anyone else present as possible. Natasha exchanged a handful with Maria Hill but besides that, Steve didn’t see her speak to anyone.

Steve hopped on his bike without saying goodbye to Fury. He figured the other man would understand. There was a long drive ahead of Steve and as much as he looked forward to being on his old motorcycle again, he doubted it was going to be a pleasant drive. He had hours ahead of him and he’d like to arrive before dark if possible. Maybe even by dinner time, if traffic allowed for it.

His wallet had a card Steve was told S.H.I.E.L.D. would keep loaded. Apparently there would eventually be some kind of back pay issued but it was a unique enough issue that the Department of Veteran’s Affairs was having to draft new legislations just to cover it and allow for him to be compensated for his service in some way. Steve wasn’t sure exactly what pay he was due for seventy years in the ice, but hoped it was enough to buy him a little bit of independence.

By the time he reached his destination almost four hours later, his legs were a little stiff and the whole world had a soft vibration to it. Walking on solid ground, which didn’t hum underneath him the same way his bike had, felt wrong. It threw his balances off slightly and he listed a little bit up on his way up the walk towards the front door.

There was an older woman behind the front desk who, clearly having seen the footage from New York, wasn’t entirely surprised to see him walk through her front door. She smiled at him warmly and pushed a clipboard towards him.

“Good afternoon.” She smiled. “Are you here to visit one of our residents?”

Steve smiled back. “Yes, ma’am. I was told Peggy Carter was living here now?”

“She sure is.” The nurse smiled. “She’s been waiting for you, Captain.”

* * *

The fury of helplessness was unbearable. Seeing Peggy was a mistake. Seeing Peggy was the worst choice Steve had made in at least seven decades and that was up to and including the decision to crash that damn plane in the first place. She was old. Practically decrepit, a mean voice in the back of his mind felt the need to point out. Weak.  


_She is human. Weak. You don’t need her._ His mind was taunting him with images of her wrinkled form curled into the plush chair in his tiny room. She’d smiled so widely when she saw him. Apparently she’d been certain he would come the moment she saw the video of him in New York. All she’d done was smile at him all serenely and then scowl mockingly.

“You’re late.” She’d barely kept a straight face through it. She was so thrilled to see him.

And then thirty minutes later she’d gone through the whole routine again.

“It’s worse in the evenings.” One of the nurses had tried consoling him.

The second time she’d reacted to his appearance with wonder, Steve left as soon as she was calmed down. He couldn’t take it again. It hurt. As he’d walked out towards the front doors, wiping at his cheeks to cover the spots where tears still fell, he’d seen a few of the nurses behind the front desk practically swooning at him.

“Captain America here to see his girl.” One of them had whispered. But of course he’d heard it.

“How romantic.” Another had sighed.

How pathetic.

How awful.

How painful.

Steve was lost. He’d gotten to his bike, tossed a single leg over it and then realized that he had nowhere to go. No place to stay. Nobody else to console the growing ache he was feeling in his chest. Steve sat on the bike and rested his head on the handlebars, letting himself cry. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t letting go of Steve Rogers. This wasn’t going to help him survive in the 21st century. So what was he doing?

_Reminding yourself that you’re not human_. The voice taunted him again.

Steve tightened his grip around the handlebars and let himself squeeze. He didn’t stop until he started to feel them give way. When he let go, he could see where the shape of them was now molded to his hands. It was childish and petty.

“She doesn’t remember me either.” A voice called to him. “She always wants to call me Howard.”

Steve snorted. “You look nothing like your father.”

“I know I don’t. But we share some DNA. Several different tests I’ve run myself don’t lie.”

“Your father was a good man.”

“My father was a sonofabitch. But he loved at least three people. You. Peggy. And my mom.” Tony shrugged nonchalantly and finally stepped away from his car and towards Steve. “I’m sure I made the list somewhere between science and S.H.I.E.L.D. but only God knows where.”

“Tony.” Steve didn’t have the mental capacity at the moment to pity anyone but himself.

“Oh, don’t worry. That about covers the daddy issues.” Tony grinned. “So, you’ve seen her.”

Steve nodded. “I felt like I needed to.”

“You know, I could’ve warned you. Or given you a ride.” Tony pointed to his fancy car.

“It felt like something to do alone.” Steve shook his head. “Were you going to go see her?”

Tony shook his head. “I stick to a schedule. It’s better for the both of us. I have a standing agreement with the nurse to get a call whenever something happens here. Your arrival made the list, apparently. And when she called, I happened to be nearby.”

“We were in New York this morning.”

“Nearby a jet, to be fair. That I own.” Tony shrugged nonchalantly. “And now we’re both in Virginia.”

Steve wasn’t in the mood for Tony’s brand of laughing through extreme trauma and pain. His shoulders felt stiff from holding himself too rigidly. His head was pounding. Which just made him think, again, of the conversation in New York about the serum, which just made his head hurt more. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy, as far as Steve could tell.

“I’ll tell you what, slightly smaller Big Guy.” Tony said after it became clear Steve wasn’t going to respond. “I have a place nearby. It has a gym with a lot of things you can hit. Why don’t you come with me. I have one place I’d like to show you and then we’ll head in.”

Steve frowned. “I’m not in the mood for a tourist trap, Tony. Or a stripper joint.”

“It’s neither of those things. It’s cool. Just trust me.” Tony waved him towards the car.

“My bike.” Steve tried to protest. But a shorter man was already hopping out of Tony’s car to grab Steve’s bag and take the keys for the bike away from him. Steve just stepped back and let it happen. Tony waved Steve into the car.

“You’re gonna be okay, Cap.” Tony said as he climbed in, clapping Steve on the shoulder.

“I’m fine.” Steve insisted.

“Sure thing.” Tony nodded. Then he whipped out of the parking lot at a speed that made Steve a lot less surprised that he spent his time zipping through the air in a glorified soda can. 

* * *

Tony pulled up to a gigantic glass façade. Big enough that Steve could clearly tell it was empty.  


"Should we even be here?" Steve eyed the important looking building nervously. "It's closed."

Tony snorted and waved him off. "I made some calls."

The building was better than the Triskelion, which Tony had pointed out to him on their drive over, in Steve's opinion by about the width of a dog's hair. It had two gigantic concrete structures with this huge expanse of glass strung between them. It was like someone had decided all institutional buildings needed to be harsh, imposing, and cold. He shuddered as they walked through one of the dozen or so doors across the front of the glass.

"Welcome to the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum." Tony said grandly. He was clearly the more excited of the two of them. "Constructed in 1976. I practically _lived_ here as a boy. I can still do the tour by heart."

Steve watched him turn excitedly, taking in the exhibits before landing on one. "That, for instance, is the Bell X-1, the first aircraft to exceed the speed of sound. And this is the X-15, which took us to the edge of space."

"You say that like we haven't been any further." Steve gave him a look. "You said…The moon-"

Tony shushed him and led Steve down a hallway. Smiling and waving Steve along excitedly. "Who's telling this story? We're walking. And we're walking."

"Tony." Steve laughed. Tony paused dramatically beside an exhibit.

"On July 20, 1969, one small step for man led to one giant leap for mankind." Tony grinned. "That reference will be greater in a minute or two, trust me. That was the day an astronaut-an _American_ astronaut, no less- climbed off this and onto the moon."

It was an oddly shaped machine. Steve couldn't take his eyes off it. "We did it. I- I mean _they."_

"No, no." Tony laughed at Steve's wistful expression. "No, 'we' is fine. Go ahead and strike a pose. It'll make a hell of a Christmas card."

Steve did so excitedly, which made Tony laugh. Steve fought the knot in his throat as he smiled because all he could think was that if Bucky had lived to see this he would have been ecstatic. Hell, he'd be pissed it wasn't him that got to go up there. This place would have been Bucky's version of a toy store. Tony seemed not to notice, or at least he was good at pretending, and led Steve to the next exhibit in the hall.

"What came next?" Steve asked. "Mars?"

"No, not yet." Tony shook his head. "Unmanned rovers, so far. But give us time. Let us finish the International Space Station First. Yeah, you heard me. _Space Station_. Space flights have been so common we launch as many as nine orbital shuttles a year. The glamour took some tarnish in '86 after flight 51-L. Due to a stupid, pointless mechanical error, it exploded 73 seconds after launch on live TV."

Tony gestured to a picture of a crew that gave Steve shivers. It had two women. And a black man. And an Asian man. They were all in one group. Smiling. "And now when we reach for the stars, we do it in honor of the Challenger crew."

"And they're _all_ honored, right?" Steve asked, looking up at the picture. Tony frowned.

"I'm not sure I understand the question." Tony looked between Steve and the picture.

"I'm glad to hear that." Steve smiled.

"You talk like Pepper." Tony made a face and shook his head. They started heading out of the exhibit area. "I don't like all that double talk, you understand?"

"From what I can understand, you just like to talk." Steve teased him. Tony laughed.

"That's true." Tony nodded.

“It’s not the technology that impresses me.” Steve said once they were outside. “Not to make light, but I am living technology. I was created in a lab. Your phones and computers and internet… they’re definitely mad-scientist gizmos. But they’re not the real achievement. It’s society itself. The freedom of _all_ people, regardless of their race or their gender has come a long way.  That’s what I can’t get enough of. Some of it still isn’t great, Tony. How far away is the closest H.O.Z.?”

Tony sighed. “Not far. I didn’t say it was perfect.”

“I already know that it isn’t that.” Steve admitted. Tony waited a beat.

“It’s a work in progress. That’s the beauty of the country. We are a constant work in progress.”

“I’ll admit to the progress.” Steve smiled. “Introduce me to the man who brought _that_ about.”

“Glad to.” Tony smiled and brought out his phone. They sat right there on the steps and pulled out his phone. He tapped a few buttons and played a video.

“I’ve yet to see one of these things make a phone call.” Steve shook his head.

“Phone calls are so 2000.” Tony told him. Steve snorted but didn’t really know what that meant.

The video was a short clip of a speech by Martin Luther King, Jr. that was titled ‘I Have a Dream’. It was beautiful. Filmed right in Washington D.C. by some of the monuments that Steve recognized. And there were so many people there. He watched it twice before saying anything to Tony.

“Were…were you there? For this moment?” Steve asked.

“No. But a quarter million other Americans were. They filled that mall right here to hear the greatest speech of all time. Seventeen minutes that changed the world.” Tony grinned. And then, because it was Tony, he quipped. “Wait until you hear about _Woodstock_.”

They both stood. Steve was looking around and trying to imagine that many people in one place. Tony put his phone away and they stood in the faint glow of the buildings and monuments. He had Steve follow him directly across the mall and up the steps to another building. This one was much older. Tony sighed and gestured to their surroundings. Steve followed Tony into the museum and was shocked by what he was walked in to.

“I hope I’m making my point. I think…I _know_ …that, together, we Americans raised one hell of a century from the ashes of a World War. Everything you ever wanted for this country, Steve…it’s either come true or it’s around the corner. I truly believe that. And the one thing we have never, _ever_ forgotten is that we couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Oh my god.” He felt weak. That was _him_. This whole room was dedicated to him. And Bucky.

Bucky had his own display. Steve walked right over to it. They had his bike, he saw it in the corner, and the old shields he’d carried before his own. Buck’s face held his attention for a few minutes but then he was pulled away by other displays. This area was huge. They had interviews with all of the Commandos. Phillips. Peggy. Steve grinned and watched all of them. It looked like they’d been made not too long after the war. They all still looked fairly young. He turned into a second room and was confused.

“Captain America II?” Steve asked, gesturing to the display. There were others for a III and a IV.

“When you went MIA, the government was worried about the affect it would have on moral. They elected to keep the Captain Shield and Stripes alive on the home front to bolster the country’s post war morale buy bringing in stand-ins.” Tony had to laugh. “It worked for a time, but it was never the same as the real thing President Eisenhower- yes, he became president- put an end to it.”

“They hired actors?” Steve said, unable to hide his distaste.

“They used Soldiers.” Tony shook his head. “And they only ever used volunteers. My dad was actually directly involved in the hiring process. It was a pet project of his.”

“Unbelievable.” Steve had to laugh. He stared at the costumed men who took his place.

“Whether you were there or not, it was still _you_.” Tony assured him. “Your heart, your spirit. This is a legend you created. The kind that shines maybe once every hundred years. This is your legacy. And it’s a pretty big one to turn your back on.”

“I’m not turning my back on it.” Steve told him. He walked back to the main

“Other men tried to carry the weight of the shield and they failed.” Tony reminded him.

“I just don’t know if I can.” Steve said tiredly.

“If not you, then who?” Tony turned around in the exhibit. “We haven’t found a replacement.”

Steve couldn’t hide his own frustration. “I didn’t realize the was a recruiting visit. Or that you would think I was still a good fit to permanently pick the shield back up.”

“Don’t you?” Tony asked him.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Steve admitted.

* * *

Tony decided they would walk back to his apartment from the mall, taking Steve the long way down the Mall where they had to pass the White House with the Washington Monument in full view. Steve wasn’t comfortable with it.  


“You know, I already agreed to be Captain America.” Steve smiled at him. “The symbolism is a bit much.”

Tony had to laugh at him too. “I thought you were still thinking about it?”

“I don’t know that it’s much of a choice. What else am I going to do?” Steve shrugged.

“I dunno. What does Steve Rogers like to do?” Tony shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Doesn’t matter.” Steve shrugged. When Tony didn’t respond, he continued. “I think it’s best to leave him in 1945. He seems a little…outdated…in the 21st century.”

“Outdated?” Tony looked at him like he was crazy. “But you’re okay keeping Captain America?”

Steve felt stupid shrugging again. “Captain America serves a purpose. He does good. He’s important.”

“Steve didn’t?”

“The world mourned Steve Rogers once.” Steve pointed out. “And then they moved on. The one thing that you’ve shown me tonight- what Fury has made perfectly clear- is that even if there’s not room for Steve Rogers, there’s a need for Captain America.”

Tony snorted. “That’s dumb.”

“What?” Steve hadn’t expected that response.

“You can’t go back to your old life, so you’re just going to forget about it?” Tony shook his head. “That doesn’t sound incredibly healthy.”

Steve just frowned at the sidewalk. There was something people like Tony- and people like Bucky- who had always known a purpose never understood. Steve couldn’t give up the one thing that allowed him to actually do good. Everything he’d done. Everything he’d given up. Everything he’d fought for. Steve knew that Tony was born in to people needing him; he’d never known the feeling of not being enough or of being less than everyone else. Tony had never known doubt.

Steve wasn’t going to go back to that. Not again. And absolutely nobody was going to make him.


	6. 6-2-12

**NEW YORK CITY- AVENGED AND THEN FORGOTTEN?**  
By James Olson  
June 2, 2012

It has been less than a month since the Chitauri invasion of New York left gigantic swaths of Mid-Town Manhattan in absolute shambled. The destruction is estimated to be somewhere above $12 billion dollars and could take up to three years to be complete. Several subway lines have been closed until further notice due to collapsed tunnels. New York Department of Transportation officials have been evaluating the condition of several roads which have been closed since the attach due to damage and debris. And that number doesn’t include the loss of revenue to local business from the loss of tourism and loss of real estate. Initial numbers have 32 separate business shuttering their doors permanently in response to destroyed locations, repair costs, or other Battle related consequences.

The Mayor and Governor have both requested that those planning to travel to Manhattan in the coming months due what they can to delay these plans. Streets between 20th and 43rd are still currently only open to those who can prove they live or lived within the epicenter of the attach. 40% of the buildings within those blocks are still being investigated for structural integrity and resident safety.

Many are questioning the culpability of the Avengers in the repair costs involved with restoring Manhattan’s property. As of Tuesday morning, Congress ruled that none of these team members can be sought after for damages individually, as they were working in an official capacity under S.H.I.E.L.D. and therefore protect by federal statutes.

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  5. New York State Senate calls for the prioritization of Human relief efforts in wake of invasion.
  6. Magneto comments on Battle of New York- “No relief has been sent to Demon Neighborhoods.”



 

#NYCPride @ImperiousRex  
More millionaires live in midtown than anywhere else in US but they want the people who saved their asses to pay for it? @WHIH is a joke  
9:42 AM – 2 June 2012

Here For Tony Stark @RoxProphecy  
@ImperiousRex you know they do.  
9:48 AM – 2 June May 2012

London2012 @  
@ImperiousRex actually NYC is only 15 in the US for millionaires. And they suddenly have 12 bil? And they should have to pay for what the Avengers did?  
9:49 AM – 2 June May 2012

Asgardian Warrior @xxJESSIE92XX  
@ImperiousRex @RoxProphecy Does Thor even have money tho? Do they have money on Asgard?  
9:50 AM – 2 June 2012

#NYCPride @ImperiousRex  
@RoxProphecy I heard they were clearing the D.O.Z uptown to make room for the displaced.  
9:51 AM – 2 June 2012

Here For Tony Stark @RoxProphecy  
@ImperiousRex I’d like to see them try.  
9:51 AM – 2 June 2012

trashvengers:  


> Anyone else here absolute Avengers trash? I’m taking a poll for science reasons.

  
_#avengers #ironman #tony stark #Captain America #Thor #Natasha Romanov #Clint Barton_  
 **12 notes**

capsrightbicep:  


> Watching the news coverage of New York is a lot less terrifying if you just start ranking the hotness of various Avengers

  
_#avengers #sorry but my thirst can not be quenched #by anything but a tall glass of hot blonde and patriotic_  
 **20,597 notes**

maryellenspencer:  


> Which super hero do I call for all the people dying of dehydration on my dash right now?

  
_#avengers_  
 **6,244 notes**

thornevelyn reblogged capsrightbicep:  


> Watching the news coverage of New York is a lot less terrifying if you just start ranking the hotness of various Avengers.  
> 
>
>> All due respect to the gravity of the situation but science demands you provide us with that ranking

  
 _#avengers_  
 **20,599 notes**

thornevelyn reblogged maryellenspencer:  


> Which super hero do I call for all the people dying of dehydration on my dash right now?  
> 
>
>> Preferably all of them

  
 _#avengers_  
 **6,246 notes**

magnificentmalfeasance:  


> **UNPOPULAR OPINION TIME:**  
>  Ya’lls weird ass obsession with the Bland White Man™ has literally gone too fucking far. My neighborhood was a literal war zone. My school? No longer there. Crushed. And we’re not millionaires whining to have the Avengers pay for our shit, we’re people barely hanging on to our homes in the face of gentrification and slow shrinking of the metropolitan D.O.Z.’s that have been around since the 50’s.
> 
> Take your stupid man crush elsewhere. The Avengers aren’t heroes. They’re vigilantes. My home is gone and nobody is going to do a damn thing about it.

  
_#avengers #yeah im gonna tag it #not scared #fangirls can fucking kiss my ass_  
 **32 notes**

doz-edandconfused:  


> **Are really going to forgive mass murder and destruction because it was a bunch of hunky looking white humans?**

  
#not tagging #just saying  
 **97 notes**

magnificentmalfeasance reblogged doz-edandconfused:  


> are we really going to forgive mass murder and destruction because it was a bunch of hunky looking white humans?  
> 
>
>> We all know what they’d say if the Avengers were D.

  
 _#and lets not pretend the weakest of us #couldn’t stomp an Avenger #without a fucking problem_  
 **124 notes**

trashvengers:  


> **AVENGERS HATE IS NOT TOLERATED ON THIS BLOG. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IMMEDIATELY.**

  
_#avengers_  
 **1,257,492 notes**

 **WHIH BREAKING UPDATE**  
**RIOTS IN THE STREETS AS NYDOT OFFICIALS BEGIN RECONSTRUCTION PROCESS**  
By: James Olson  
June 3, 2012

Early reports are coming in that New York Housing Authority officials, in charge of all D.O.Z. and H.O.Z. borders, have drawn ire from inhabitants from an Uptown D.O.Z. where relocations were scheduled to start beginning this morning.

Under New York law, Demon citizens are not permitted to own property or sign legal agreements without a human sponsor. As such their housing is usually provided through the N.Y.H.A in specified areas, which are guarded to ensure resident safety. This property is provided at low cost and at the discretion of the N.Y.H.A. officials.

In the wake of the massive attack on Mid-Town Manhattan, almost 300 humans were in urgent need of residence on the island. Since no other accommodations could be made, the demon citizens were given 14 days to relinquish their housing in order to provide the emergency need. Those 14 days expired yesterday. When officials arrived this morning, they found the entirety of the D.O.Z. had been barricaded and the residents inside sent a formal notice to the officials insisting on their legal right to remain within their current homes.

The one concession the residents did agree to make was to allow the almost 100 displaced Demons to be brought up from Mid-Town to be housed in currently vacant structures. No humans nor N.Y.H.A. officials were allowed inside the D.O.Z. during this exchange. In order to maintain the peace, the police were called to reason with the inhabitants as to the consequences of illegally remaining on government property. This resulted in the destruction of two cop cars and the kidnapping of a police K9 officer.

You can watch live footage of the stand-off below. This article will be updated as details emerge.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapter day! Check back tonight for another update!


	7. The End of Innocence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr)

Steve spent multiple hours in the gym at Tony’s expansive D.C. penthouse when they arrived. He was pretty sure that it was after midnight by time he finally left it. And he’d only given up when there was nothing left he couldn’t hit without causing serious damage. Steve couldn’t get his mind to be quiet. He couldn’t get them to fall into an order that he could follow to some sort of logical conclusion.

The end result was a killer headache and a pain in his shoulders that he could barely manage to lift his arms without aggravating. And he felt no better. There was no release. There was no relief. Instead, it felt as if the tension had been ratchetted up to eleven and was currently coursing through his body at full volume. He tried forcing himself through a cold shower before laying down. It didn’t work. He laid between the sheets, staring at the ceiling, praying to a God he barely believed in anymore for sleep.

His mouth was dry. His stomach hurt. His whole body screamed at him in rage from the various aches and pains. But there was no fatigue. No exhaustion. He stared at the ceiling and wished for sleep but it was so far from his grasp it was laughable. Instead he remained alert. Awake. Feeling absolutely everything.

When the tablet Tony used for a clock told him only minutes had past, he broke it. ‘Accidentally’.

So there was no indication of what time it was exactly- not beyond it being that hazy time between absurdly late and painfully early- that Steve found himself hovering between awake and asleep. He hadn’t even realized he was no longer conscious until the creature shadowed into existence in front of him. Which had to mean he was dreaming.

And then he recognized the eyes staring back at him. Bucky.

It was cruel how his mind used his memory to hurt him. The dream was so real. The texture of his skin the specs of color in his eyes. Even in the low light of the room Steve could see the way his mouth moved as he breathed. How his jaw clenched and unclenched as he stared, not passive but not all focused either, right back at Steve. He was sitting next to the bed less than an arm’s length away from where Steve lay. It made sense. The museum had made Bucky feel so close. It had been the most Steve had thought of him since waking up, which caused another pain in his chest.

Steve reached towards the face at the edge of the bed where Bucky was staring at him with wide, curious eyes. For a second, Steve’s fingertips paused a millimeter from the skin on Bucky’s cheek. In his mind he could almost feel the heat radiating off of it. It was the first time all night Steve’s chest opened up and he felt like he could breathe.

“Bucky.” Steve whispered the name. It was more breathless whisper than real word.

It sent Bucky scattering backwards. Bucky hit the back wall of the room. His chest was heaving up and down in large gulping breaths. Steve’s shot up in the bed, his mind instantly clear and conscious. He was awake. This was not a dream. There was definitely a man cowering in the corner of his room. It was a little more haggard- a little more animal- than the Bucky he remembered. But it was him. Clearly.

In the exact same thought Steve remembered him on the train. Him falling. Gone. Sending the telegraph to his family. Bucky was gone. This was supposed to be a dream. But he was awake.

“Am I dreaming?” Steve asked aloud. Bucky didn’t respond. Steve didn’t want to move to pinch himself. But it felt real. The remnants of his broken alarm clock still sat accusingly on the nightstand. All signs, except the man who was very much dead sitting in his bedroom, pointed to Steve being awake.

Which meant this was the final stage of degradation that Tony had mentioned. Fried brain stew.

Was it insanity, still, if you knew that you were insane?

“You’re not real.” Steve rubbed the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to rub the image from where it was burned into his brain. But it was still there when he reopened them. Bucky, curled in the corner of his room. Whimpering. He tried closing them again.

Still there.

“You’re not real.”

Still there.

“You’re not real. You’re not real. You’renotreal. You’renotrealyou’renotrealyou’renotreal.” Steve rubbed the sensitive skin around where the horns had receded back into his scalp after New York. The sting helped stop the room from swimming so he could focus. When he felt like he could focus, he did. Training his eyes onto the darkness Bucky was trying to disappear in to. He looked so solid. Like if Steve moved fast enough he could grab him. Steve edged closer to the corner of his bed. 

“I’m Steve.” Bucky tensed back into the corner, shaking. “Do you know who I am?”

Bucky said nothing but his jaw tensed and the look on his face shifted to one of pure panic. That wasn’t an answer but it told him enough. Steve didn’t try to move again. He just stared. Bucky didn’t move a muscle but he blinked in and out of existence like flickering light bulb.

“You’re not real.” Steve said quietly. He didn’t meet Bucky’s gaze; worried about what he’d see if he did.

Silence stretched across the darkness.

Steve forced himself to lay back down. To ignore the delusion in the corner.

Eventually he managed to fall asleep.

* * *

The scream ripped from his throat brokenly. It barely sounded human. He tried to clamp his mouth shut to stop it but found that screaming was the only thing distracting him from the pain twisting his muscles into convoluted contortions. So he chose to scream. He could feel it clawing it’s way out of his throat, leaving it feeling ripped and raw as it did. By the time he was able to stop screaming, the sound had faded into a hoarse yowl. His voice simply didn’t have anything left. Steve didn’t feel like his body did either. His head pounded. Pain seared from the very bottom of his feet and up his legs into his back, his muscles spasming so hard it made Steve twist, arching and curling to try and relieve what suddenly felt like intense pressure.

When it finally subsided and Steve was finally able to shift himself without agony, it faded in to something that was numb. It was soothing at first. Steve could hardly contain a sigh of relief. After the extremeness of the pain, Steve embraced the cool embrace of nothingness. His body was wracked with exhaustion from the pain and he rolled over, fulling expecting to go back to sleep now that the worst had passed. But his hand hit water. Or wetness. Damp. Steve lifted his head from the pillow, which took more effort than was reasonable.

In the dark Steve couldn’t see anything. But after feeling around and noticing that his bed was in fact soaking wet, Steve climbed out from the covers and hit the light. It was blinding at first. He couldn’t get his eyes to focus on anything over the extreme brightness. When they finally did, he immediately spotted the problem.

He was pretty sure that water wasn’t deep red.

“Well, this isn’t good.” Steve whispered to himself.

This was going to take some explaining to Tony. There was no way this wasn’t going to end up being the subject of at least fifteen jokes at the next most awkward opportunity. Which should clearly not be the priority given the amount of what was clearly blood on what was also clearly very fancy sheets.

Steve snorted to himself. He couldn’t quite bring himself to be concerned. Instead something about the whole situation was endlessly amusing to him. Steve could see where it was concerning. But given that he was no longer in pain and he didn’t appear to have any fatal wounds, he couldn’t see a reason for undue levels of alarm.

This meant he was up for the day. It wasn’t like he could climb back in to wet, bloody sheets. Not without someone in the house thinking something weird about him. With a sigh, Steve stripped the sheets from the bed and noted with relief that there weren’t deep stains on the mattress itself. Most of it soaked into the comforter and mattress pad.

He carried them to the en-suite bathroom to the tub Tony had told Steve was for dirty laundry.

“I don’t think this is what you had in mind.” Steve whispered to himself. He knew he should feel guilty but couldn’t quite get himself there. “Might need to have you warn your maid so that she doesn’t quit.”

She probably would anyway, if she saw what Steve saw in the bathroom mirror.

Steve probably would have walked away himself, if it would have changed the situation.

He didn’t think denial did much for changes in physiology quite like his.

Though, Steve was willing to at least try denial as an approach to the problem. But closing his eyes and opening them again- even multiple times in a row- didn’t make the problem go away. Which mean that it probably wasn’t a problem that Steve could make go away on his own either. Not that he’d been considering not telling Tony about it, but he had definitely been weighing the benefits of Tony never finding out about it.

The horns, Steve could deal with. They looked like the ones that grew immediately following his exposure to the tesseract. Short but sharp and made of almost grey looking pitted bone. It felt rough under Steve’s hand. What was new, and would be a lot harder to deal with than horns, were the wings. They were large and, given the streaks of red on them, they were where the blood had come from. The fresh down of the feathers were coated in red.

There was a shot of pain as Steve twisted to get a better view of them- his body adjusting to the new growth, Steve assumed- and he nearly collapsed onto the ground. As it was, his knee hit the ground hard and his legs buckled dangerously as he forced himself to stand back up. Steve managed to get standing- barely- and went to check himself further in the mirror.

His wings lurched outward, which tossed him off balance and sent Steve toppling backwards. He ended up actually on the floor this time, flat on his back. The bones inside the wings dug into the skin on his back, which was open and raw. Steve let out a strangled groan, but also noticed that the pain receded back into numbness as long as he didn’t move. It took him about fifteen minutes to convince himself to move again. Right as he was about to try, someone walked into the room and pulled him up.

“Those are, um,” Tony paused and tried to fish for words before finally settling on, “new.”

Steve nodded and barely resisted rolling his eyes. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

“You shouldn't be, though.” Tony took a minute to make Steve do a full turn so that he could asses the situation. Steve just let him. It wasn't like he had much room to say no to him. Tony finally sighed and stepped back to lean on the bathroom counter. “Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning.”

Steve shrugged. “I was asleep. I woke up in pain. Screamed for a bit-”

“Yeah, I heard that.”  Tony interjected.

“- and then I had wings.” Steve finished with a shrug. Tony’s eyes went wide but he kept a straight face.

“And two horns.” Tony gestured to them.

“They hurt less.” Steve countered. “I’m not sure that I’m too bothered by them.”

Tony considered Steve intently. “You seem incredibly unbothered about all of this, actually.”

“The pain is gone as long as I don’t move too much.” Steve explained. The wings fluttered of their own accord. Steve tensed, reached over, and grabbed Tony to keep himself standing just in case the unfurled again. “The balance is the hardest thing to adjust to.”

Tony didn’t say anything. Steve realized he was wincing from the force of Steve's grip.

“Is this…” Steve gestured to it all. “A part of the serum thing you were talking about?”

Tony just regarded him for a moment. “No. No. This is…no." 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked him. Tony was looking in circles- from Steve’s face, to his horns, to the wings, in rapid succession. “I know this is a lot to take in.”

Tony sighed and pulled out his phone. “We might need to call Fury.”

“No.” His voice came out like a thunder clap. His wings unfurled completed but Steve stayed standing.

“Ok, maybe not.” Tony swallowed.

“You really won’t?” Steve pressed. Tony looked down at his phone, face contorted.

“I don’t think I can.” Tony said finally. His tone was terse. Annoyed.

He swallowed and Steve noticed a bead of sweat starting at Tony’s temple. His face was starting to turn a little bit red, flushed as if he was exerting himself. Finally, the phone clattered out of Tony’s hands and onto the floor. Tony gulped several large breaths and leaned back on the bathroom counter while wiping the slight sheen of sweat from his brow.

“You don’t get to do that ever again.” Tony warned him. “Got it?”

Steve nodded. “Sorry. I don’t quite know what this is.”

“They call it Persuasion. And it’s Demon.” Tony said quietly.

“I assumed it was all Demon.” Steve gestured the entirety of his own person.

“You don’t sound particularly beaten up about it.” Tony pointed out. He was sounding more suspicious of Steve than before the Persuasion issue. “I mean, I understand that it’s not entirely a surprise but I have to admit that I expected at least a little bit of apprehension. How are you feeling about all this?”

Steve considered how to respond. “It hurt. I think I’m just worn out. It doesn’t feel real.” 

“I’m half hoping that I wake up. Wanna pinch me?” Tony offered his arm. Steve declined.

“I think I just want to sleep.” Steve said softly.

“Of course. It’s a lot to take in.” Tony nodded. He rubbed his eyes. “I think I’m up for the day, but feel free to use the next guestroom over.”

Steve nodded. “Thanks.”

“Just shower first.” Tony called over his shoulder as he walked out.

Steve was going to do that. He would. But as Tony left and Steve was left to himself, Steve studied his own hands. He hadn’t realized until Tony asked him how he felt that Steve realized that he just…didn’t. He’d noticed a slight numbness after pain left. He’d recognized that he wasn’t overreacting to the development of new appendages. Steve felt them. His fingers traced the horns. He rolled his shoulders. The muscles ached and the skin was pinched and raw, so he still had feeling. But when he tried to analyze how he felt about his, the emotion just felt beyond his fingertips. He wanted to sleep. He wanted clean the blood off of his back and wings. He had a vague inclination towards wanting something to eat. But there was no emotion tied to the desire. The last emotion he remembered feeling had been agony.

Bucky.

It was the last thing he felt and it wasn’t even real.

It shot through him just as potently as any of the pain from the transition. Agony. It burst in through his chest as if he was physically tearing something from it. Feeling the full brunt of it after feeling nothing was like sticking his hand directly into open flame. He honestly preferred the nothing.

* * *

 

The shower helped. A little.

Going back to sleep for several hours sleep helped a lot more.

When Steve woke up, incredibly groggy but well rested, he almost forgot that he’d grown anything. He almost rolled over and continued sleeping, but when he went to roll over it was directly on top of one of the wings. The pain woke him up the rest of the way and ensured that he was up for the day.

Then, getting dressed proved to be an issue because of course nothing in his bags nor Tony’s closet allowed for the wings. In frustration, Steve stayed shirtless. He wasn’t going to destroy any perfectly good shirts just because of this. Steve was sure there was some kind of solution that he just didn’t know about yet. And then he realized it definitely didn’t matter because Tony definitely had servants in this ridiculous apartment and Steve definitely didn’t want them to see him like this. Not until he had a plan.

He couldn’t leave the room. Which meant he was trapped, pacing the room and trying to find ways to rest that didn’t make him feel lazy, until Tony remembered he was here and came to check on him. The thought frustrated Steve a little bit as there was certainly something he should be doing. Finding a solution? Talking to Fury about the job? Visiting Peggy? But he couldn’t do any of those things in this room. Steve was getting more and more sore as he stayed awake. And the numbness was creeping back in to the edges of his fingertips.

When Tony finally came in, with some blasé comment about having emptied the apartment of anyone else hours ago, Steve tensed. Just like Tony to make some big gesture but not think about the reality of maybe letting Steve know he was safe to leave his prison.

“Thanks,” Steve snapped. He knew he sounded ungrateful, but he needed out. Immediately.

“Woah, buddy, where are you running to?” Tony practically jogged after Steve as he stomped away.

“I need out.” Steve grumbled. “I’ve been trapped in that room for hours.”

Tony managed to get him to stop. “How long have you been awake?”

“I dunno. Hours.” Steve shook his head. Tony just nodded a few times.

“I’m going to go ahead and doubt that.” Tony nodded a few times. “Steve, I only left you two hours ago. Just over. It’s not even six in the morning yet.”

Steve just blinked at him. “That can’t be right.”

“It is.” Tony flashed his watch at Steve but it was too fast to read it. Steve didn’t care.

“It felt like hours.” Steve amended.

“We have about six hours before Fury gets suspicious. So, let’s talk strategy. Make a plan.” Tony led Steve down the hallway. “I think we need to start with a standard checkup. Some blood work. All confidential and kept on Stark Industry’s most secure server. S.H.I.E.L.D. will never know.”

“Fury doesn’t expect me back for days.” Steve reminded Tony.

“It’s cute how you don’t think he has spies watching your every move.” Tony snorted.

“What?”

“Give it time. And invest in a signal jammer for wireless bugs.” Tony waved a dismissive hand.

They stepped in to what Steve assumed was Tony’s lab and Steve immediately felt intimidated. Maybe because of the night before, but his first thought was how much Bucky would have loved it. Bucky had been obsessed with science. Chemistry specifically, but really anything new and groundbreaking could have Bucky walking on clouds for days. It was sleek. Clean. Chrome with hard black counters and machines that Steve couldn’t devise any true purpose for.

“So this is your lab?” Steve asked him. Tony just stopped in his tracks, turned, and stared at him.

“Sure.” He nodded. But he looked like he was holding back laughter. Steve sighed.

“I’m not going to live down calling this a lab, am I?” Steve asked.

“Nope.” Tony shook his head. He was slowly losing a fight with laughter.

“But you’re not going to tell me what it is?” Steve challenged. Tony pressed a button to open a tall, floor to ceiling cabinet that was made of some hard black surface. When the door was opened wide enough, Steve recognized what was clearly the inside of a refrigerator.

“Most people can recognize a kitchen when they see one.” Tony teased.

“Most people don’t have kitchens that can be mistaken for labs.” Steve countered.

“Just shut up and help me cook breakfast.” Tony started loading ingredients in to Steve’s arms.

“Exactly how much food are you planning on making?” Steve asked after grabbing the second carton of eggs. He didn’t even know what Tony would have this much food stocked in the first place. “It’s just us.”

Tony shrugged. “I was mostly just seeing how many things I could hand you before you called me on it.”

Breakfast ended up being a simple affair- eggs and toast which they knew Steve could handle swallowing with them tasting like ash in his mouth. Steve had explained it to Tony while he was cooking and the other man had been full of ideas as to what could potentially be causing it. Steve just let him ramble and tried to ignore the growing pains in his head and back. He couldn’t even sit at Tony’s table properly because the wings hit the backrest and sent shooting pains up his back every time.

“Is this level of pain normal?” Steve asked him. Tony shrugged and thought for a moment.

“I haven’t heard of anyone with wings who didn’t grow up with wings.” Tony shook his head.

“So there aren’t many others like me that turned later in life?”

“As far as I can tell, you’re the only one.” Tony shrugged again.

* * *

Steve excused himself after breakfast, pleading the need for a nap. In reality, the pain was getting too intense. Each step was becoming hard because his balances was off. Any movement in his back caused muscle spasms so hard his legs buckled. He couldn’t bare it. But Tony. Tony was already looking at Steve as if he was a freak. A dangerous freak. And Tony not being on Steve’s side meant that Steve wouldn’t have the support he needed to stay with S.H.I.E.L.D. and pass as human. That was essential. So Tony couldn’t know. Steve had to protect himself.

Back in his room, he tried to lay down. But it didn’t work. He couldn’t stop his mind from racing and get it to quiet down, so instead he laid in bed on his stomach, trying his best not to move. It didn’t help. He felt pretty close to tears.

Steve reached for the tablet next to the bed, careful not to break this one. He wanted to use the internet. Tony hadn’t said anything about it being off-limits, so Steve assumed it wouldn’t be a problem. But he had to assume that someone out there, even if they hadn’t grown them later in life like Steve, was struggling with the same sensitivity issue he was.

A search for ‘ _overly sensitive wings’_ returned nothing. Neither did ‘ _wing back pain_ ’. But a search for ‘ _problems with horn and wing growth_ ’ returned a bunch of stories about one specific individual. A Demon named Magneto. Something about a court case that stemmed from a claim that he wasn’t entirely demonic. Most of the headlines were not positive.

 

_DEMON CLAIMS HUMAN ORIGIN_

_IS INTERBREEDING EVEN POSSIBLE? ONE DEMON SAYS SO._

_DEMON RIGHTS ACTIVIST NOW CLAIMS MIXED HERITAGE_

 

Steve felt a chill. The articles described something familiar. A lack of feeling. Significant pain involved with new growth. Sure, this Magneto claimed his pain stemmed from a run-in with police after which he’d been forced to regrow an entire wing. But the details regarding significant pain based on a mixed human and demon DNA were all enough to give Steve chills. He wondered if Tony knew.

Steve had read that the case made it to the Supreme Court. And remember the way Tony had hesitated when Steve asked about there being anybody like him. There was, apparently, but Tony hadn’t seen him as a good example so he’d been excluded. Steve gave up, frustrated, and tossed the tablet back on to the nightstand. He missed and it hit the ground with a cracking sound that made Steve wince.

“Oops.” He muttered to himself.

Tony would understand. Steve went back to trying to sleep.

He gave up after an hour, walking in to the en-suite bathroom and splashing some cold water on his face to see if that helped. It didn’t. The cold water stung the exposed bone on the horns like he was biting into an ice cream cone. Steve swore and patted them dry with a towel gently. He couldn’t go on like this. They throbbed angrily. Steve studied his own face in the mirror and wondered absently about pulling them out. Sawing them off. Sure it would hurt at first. But would they grow back? The articles made it sound as if Magneto had consciously made the decision to grow back his injured wing. If he got them low enough would skin grow over them?

Maybe it was foolish to even try, but when Steve gave a tentative yank on the left one, he felt pain all the way down in to his toes. It seemed implausible that it was something he’d be able to do, at least on his own. Given the sensitivity of his wings, Steve could barely managed to reach back to them, much less yank on one hard enough to injure it. He wasn’t even going to try.

* * *

 

Steve left his room almost a full two hours later and instead of searching for Tony, Steve just explored the apartment. He found a library and mentally noted it’s location to come back to it later. About 5 bedrooms, not including the master suite. And then the lab. The actual lab, not a second kitchen. Once Steve had found it he could clearly tell the difference. The lab somehow had fewer gadgets. Just more computer monitors.

“Feeling more awake?” Tony walked into the lab, saw Steve standing in the middle of the room, and kept walking without missing a single step. “I can’t say you look much better.”

Steve swallowed. “Sorry for invading. I was just exploring.”

“I see you found the kitchen.” Tony drawled. But he and Steve both laughed. 

The wings tucked closer into Steve’s back, tensing his entire body. Steve sighed. He had wanted to try to ease into the tense part of the conversation. But he knew Tony had noticed the movement and, while he wasn’t pressing Steve to explain, was now wholly on edge. And Steve had thought he was getting better with them. He could unfurl them now without knocking himself over. He had practiced. A lot. But his feelings were harder to control, so it had helped to have something else to practice and focus on.

Tony ignored Steve while he worked on fixing some mechanical box that Steve didn’t know the actual purpose of. Steve sat on the table behind where Tony was working, watching it happen. Anything that Steve could be doing was going to be hindered by the fact that he currently had a six and a half foot wingspan. A literal wingspan.

“So, we might need to call in some professionals to help with this check-up.” Tony admitted.

“We do?”

“I don’t do biology. That’s Bruce. He’s the Doctor. And he’s currently saving poor people somewhere.”

“India.” Steve corrected. Bruce hadn’t exactly kept it a secret from them.

“Whatever.” Tony waved a dismissive hand. “I’m just saying that I think we’ll need backup.”

“With or without alerting S.H.I.E.L.D.?” Steve shot back.

“Touché.”

“How did that happen, by the way?” Steve hopped off of the counter and walked around so he and Tony could face each other. “We had demons in the S.S.R. back in the 40s. And now you’ve practically got trackers on them.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Feeling protective?”

“I feel like it’s backward progress.” Steve shot back.

“A lot has happened, Cap.” Tony dropped his screwdriver and stared Steve down.

"So. People got scared?" Steve rolled his eyes. "That's not a good enough reason."

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know, it wasn't my generation that passed all the laws. Alright? It was yours. And as far as anyone high up is concerned, it's saved lives."

"And how many has it cost, exactly?" Steve demanded.

"I'm not trying to defend the system, alright? I just want people to be safe. There's threats all over the place anymore. And, yeah, not all of them are human." Tony rolled his shoulders took a deep breath. "You're the guy who wants the world to be all sunshine and rainbows. I get it. I do. But maybe you should take five minutes to look at _why_ something is that way it is before deciding that it's evil."

Steve scowled. "I'm not going to agr-"

"Do you even understand what you're fighting for?" Tony shouted. "Jesus you could order me to shove one of my tools in my eye and I would. Without question. Do you not see the danger in your existence?"

Steve scowled. "I'm a lot less dangerous than most of the weapons you've created."

"And I _stopped_ making them." Tony demanded. He huffed, frustrated and looked away from Steve.

“You like me less now that I look like this.” Steve accused.

Tony didn’t deny it. "I didn't like you all that much before."

“Good.” Steve took a breath and nodded a few times. “I want you to use that to say yes to my next request. I think it’s the best choice and it’s what I want.”

Tony looked concerned. “What are you asking me for?”

“Remove it. All of it.” Steve gestured to the horns and the wings. Tony looked horrified.

“What?” He was staring at Steve as if he’d just asked him to commit murder.

“I need to be Captain America.” Steve explained with a firm nod. “And Captain America is human.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	8. Only Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr)

“Are you aware that what you’re asking me to do is both illegal and dangerous?” Tony asked him incredulously. “And not only that, it is several miles outside of my own skill level.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Admitting that somebody’s smarter than you?”

“I do programs. Technology. You want something cybernetic and space age-y? I’m your man. This?”

“I know it’s difficult.” Steve ignored Tony’s shaking head. “But it’s doable.”

Tony scowled. “It’s not even something science has experience in. Because it is _illegal_.”

“Don’t you have black market contacts from before you were Iron Man?” Steve pressed. “You really think that no Demon ever has recognized that passing for human would be hugely beneficial?”

Tony scoffed. “First off, I can’t believe you _want_ me to contact those people. And secondly, no.”

“That’s naïve.” Steve shook his head.

“And coming from you I guess I should be fully disappointed in myself.” Tony snapped.

“Demons have a raw deal. It’s not something that I thought you’d disagree with.” Steve made a face.

“I don’t disagree with that part. I disagree with the part where anyone but you and your very obvious death wish would actually consider _ripping off body parts_ as a viable reaction to discrimination.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and took several deep breaths.

Steve recognized that he was getting nowhere at the moment. At least not with this approach. He and Tony had been having the debate off and on for three hours. And they were coming down to the wire as Fury was sure to start trying to contact Steve any day to recruit him in to S.H.I.E.L.D. permanently. And Steve could not show up to that meeting with wings and horns. Which meant Steve was on the wire to get Tony to agree to help him.

“It hurts.” Steve tried. “Every day. Every minute. I can’t move without pain. Whatever caused these to grow…it’s not right. My body isn’t adjusting to them. Something is _wrong_.”

Tony stared at Steve intently, weighing his options. “You were born human.”

“You know I was. Everyone knows who my parents were.” Steve didn’t see the point. Tony was scowling.

“My father did this to you and it’s the only reason I’m even entertaining the idea of doing this.”

“What am I going to do if you don’t help? Who am I going to be?” Steve shook his head.

“You’re not really a demon if you have human parents.” Tony swallowed. “You can’t be. Biologically.”

Steve didn’t follow. But the wavering was what he needed. “Maybe that’s why I’m in so much pain.”

“Your contact with the Tesseract did something. Had unforeseen consequences.”

“I never had these growths before.” Steve insisted. She swallowed reflexively as Tony’s eyes narrowed.

“Why would you feel the need to add that?” He asked. He crossed his arms.

“Because I’ve had the serum for seventy years. I was agreeing with you. It had to have been something to do with the Tesseract. Maybe it wasn’t even the serum. We don’t know.” Steve was rambling and snapped his mouth shut with an audible snap. He’d managed to lose ground with Tony, but had probably managed to get it back. “I just don’t want to lose more than I’ve already given just because of fear. Unwarranted fear. Because I’m not a demon. I’m me. Steve.”

Tony snorted. “Captain America.”

“Captain America.” Steve agreed. "Human."

“This doesn’t change the fact that I absolutely need someone more skilled than me.” Tony held up a hand and stopped Steve from protesting. “You want me to do this, you’re going to have to indulge me as I try to make sure you don’t die.”

“Thank you, Tony.” Steve smiled. It would probably be Bruce. If Tony trusted them, so would Steve.

And if they could make Steve pass as human, who really didn’t care who they were.

* * *

Steve couldn’t feel the nerves he knew that he should. Even Tony was having a hard time keeping his nerves in check. Instead, Steve focused on what he could see. The operating room was vaguely reminiscent of the one he’d used in Brooklyn in 1943. It wasn’t in the basement of an antique store but the room itself. Steve felt a sense of déjà vu. He was laying down on the cold metal table while Tony worked nearby. He was nervous about the procedure working. How much it would hurt. Or, Steve though, he had been then. He could still remember the jittery feeling in his legs. The stupid jokes he’d tried to make to help ease the tension.

Tony appeared standing over him, extending a hand with what looked like a breathing apparatus of some kind like what Steve would have been given to treat his asthma in the 40s. Only somehow moderately less terrifying.

“I don’t know that the anesthesia is going to work perfectly.” Tony warned. Steve nodded a few times.

“I’ll tell you if it doesn’t and we’ll figure something else out.” He said with a shrug.

“You nervous?” Tony asked him.

“No.”

“You should be.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Steve, so many things could go wrong here.”

Steve just put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Tony, I trust you. And this is worth the risk. It’ll be fine.”

“Start huffing the drugs, Rogers. I’ve got to get the other doctors in here quickly.” Tony handed him a mask, which Steve held over his mouth and began to breathe deeply. “They won’t know who you are. You’ll be covered. And protected by the non-disclosure agreements I had them all sign. Nobody will say anything.”

Tony’s voice faded in to nothing as Steve’s world turned black and disappeared. He continued trying to breathe deeply like Tony had asked him too but eventually even thoughts seemed to be faded. Steve was just there in the darkness floating through nothingness.

He could somehow feel it, even through the haze of anesthesia that they gave him. He wasn’t fully there, he didn’t feel every pull of the scalpel. But he could feel the tugging. He could feel the way the roots of the wings were clearly tied deeply into the surrounding tissue. After one particularly hard tug, Steve felt like he was going lift completely off the table to stop them. Not from the pain- he couldn’t really associate the feeling he was having with any kind of pain- but from the sense of loss. That they were taking away something that was his.

He had to remind himself that he’d asked them to do this. It was his idea. His choice.

_Wrong_. Something deep inside of him chanted it like a song. _Wrong wrong wrong wrong._

The only way for him to survive was to be human. Senator Brandt had said it and he was right. Captain America needed to be a human. All of the fear. All of the resentment. Even Tony had suddenly stopped supporting him as heavily when Steve had changed. And the change had only been outward.

There was a sharp yank. It stung like a slap. Steve felt something snapping and then absolutely nothing.

He could tell that they were halfway done. He could feel the absence on the left hand side of his body as if they’d doused it in ice. It was cold. But also refreshing. Steve felt relief blossoming in his chest and recognized as the first full emotion he’d had since he’d woken up with wings. The sense of loss was entirely overwhelmed by the relief. If Steve had been conscious, he would have wept.

The second wing appeared to be harder to extract for reason. As if it had felt it’s mate’s removal and dug in deeper to keep a hold on Steve. And with his emotions bubbling back up to the surface, Steve found himself internally screaming and raging in conflicted emotions. He hated the sensation of tugging and cutting but at the same time was cheering the team on as the managed to extract it inch by agonizing inch.

And then, after what felt like years, he was free. But Freedom felt a lot emptier than he expected.

* * *

 

Steve woke up and had no idea what time it was. Tony hadn’t replaced the tablet with the shattered screen from his room, claiming each guest had a two tablet limit. Steve felt groggy. Sore. And there was something rotten feeling in his stomach that threatened to make him vomit everything. Steve focused on his breathing and tried to will the nauseas sensation away.

“I know you.” Steve’s eyes popped open and he shot up in bed. He didn’t remember the bandages until it was too late and he was howling in agony.

“Shit.” Steve sucked in a few deep breaths. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Bucky was back. Steve was still losing his mind. He forced himself to lay back down. Eventually he would have to get up and go check to see whether or not he’d ripped out any stitches. But Steve had to lay down and pretend to sleep so that his mind would stop putting Bucky in his room.

Steve lasted five minutes before cracking an eye and seeing that he was still there. Dream Bucky was back in the corner of Steve’s room, back pressed to the wall as he buried his head in his knees. He looked scared, of all things, and was practically shaking. Steve sighed to himself and wondered what exactly his mind was trying to prove to him with this delusion.

“You’re a figment of my imagination.” Steve said firmly. Bucky lifted his head from his knees and stared.

“Am I?” Bucky didn’t sound certain. “I don’t always know that I’m real.”

Steve snorted. “Neither do I.”

They lapsed back in to silence. Steve tried to sleep but had a hard time not just watching Bucky as he sat in the corner. Steve wished he wasn’t there. He tried willing him away. He tried watching the ceiling instead. He tried forcing himself to sleep- a skill he’d prided himself on during the war- but nothing happened. It remained him and Bucky, alone and stubbornly awake, in his room.

“I know you.” Bucky said again finally. It was quiet. He was staring at Steve.

“Because you’re not real.” Steve whispered.

“I’m not?”

“You’re a mixture of trauma, insomnia, and probably massive doses of painkillers.” Steve drawled.

“I remember you sometimes.” Bucky said, ignoring him. “But they take you away.”

Steve just stared and waited for him to disappear. It hurt.

“Do you know me?” Bucky whispered. And it was so desperate that Steve felt like crying.

“You make me miss not feeling anything.” Steve whispered, trying not to sob. “You are the worst kind of devil. I made you myself.”

Bucky stared at him. “I’m not a devil.”

“No?” Steve smiled through watery eyes.

“I’m a demon.” Bucky continued to stare at him as he said it, which was unnerving.

“You don’t look like one.” Steve pointed out. But Bucky shrugged.

“They know how to make you not.” He was shaking his head more from nerves  than disagreement.

“You’re a lot more talkative this time.” Steve pointed out. Bucky cocked his head to the side.

“Have I been here before? They take that away too. But then I remember. So they take it away again.” Bucky shook his head and put it back on his knees. “They’re going to take it away again. I don’t want them too.”

His mind was being about as subtle as a freight train.

“I don’t want them to take me away either.” Steve whispered.

Bucky just laughed humorlessly. And then he was gone. Just like that. In a split second, he disappeared.

Steve shot up in bed. To the same reaction he’d had before. It had similar results. Steve yelped, but more quietly than he had the first time. His heart was pounding heavily in his chest. He felt wide awake. That hadn’t felt dream-like. He didn’t feel delusional. But somehow, he was still seeing Bucky. His mind was still taunting him mercilessly.

He crawled out of the bed and over to the corner where Bucky had been sitting. Steve ran his hand over the carpet and felt the nausea he’d had when he first woke up shoot back into his throat. He almost vomited right there on the carpet. The carpet had been warm under his hand. It was something he could feel. Right where Bucky was sitting was warm. The spot a foot away was cold. Something had been sitting there. Bucky had actually been sitting there.

“What are you doing out of bed?” The words were a sharp snap. Steve’s whipped around to see Tony.

“Looking for something?” He tried.

“You’ve ripped half your stitches probably.” Tony came around the bed and lifted Steve back up.

“I did?” Steve couldn’t see them since they were on the back.

“Well, you could have.” Tony swore. “Who the hell knows. For all I know, you’re growing new wings under those bandages. We’re playing it by ear here, Rogers.”

Steve let Tony sit him back on the bed like a good patient. He waited as Tony unwound the bandages to check and clean the wounds on his back. But when he had them all the way off, Tony swore. Steve couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad sign that Tony seemed completely flabbergasted.

“I really hope you were joking about them growing back.” Steve joked. Tony didn’t laugh.

“It’s complete healed.” Tony said. His eyes were as wide as saucers.

“Completely?” Steve shot up to find a mirror. “But I can feel something when I move.”

Tony waved a hand. “You had internal stitches as well. Those will take longer to heal. But I could take these stitches off right now. Then skin has completely healed together already. Even for you, Steve, that’s freakishly fast.”

“How would you know that, Tony?” Steve challenged.

“Because nobody heals from eight inch incisions overnight.” Tony snapped. Steve swallowed.

“So I guess this is a bad time to ask about the horns?” Steve tried. Tony’s glare was murderous.

* * *

 

By that evening’s dinner, Steve could feel the fight brewing. They’d been snapping at each other the entire day. It had only gone downhill after the event in Steve’s bedroom. And Steve couldn’t bring himself to care. He was on to the mystery Bucky appearing in his bedroom. It might be a delusion still. It probably was, to be honest. But he was talking to Steve and the carpet had been warm and Steve wanted to believe it so desperately that he was willing to allow it to not make any sense.

He still hadn’t told Tony.

Tony who had  a sour mood even as Steve tried his best to play nice.

They’d managed to get the Horn’s ground down in to nothing. Skin grafts had been placed and healed within a matter of hours. You could see noticeable scars right near Steve’s hairline but other than that, Steve looked exactly like he had during New York. Maybe a little more tired, but he wasn’t going to be accused of being a demon by anyone else. Tony had even assured Steve that S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn’t be requiring a blood test from him anymore. JARVIS had updated their records with a report he’d generated as being done be a Stark Industries medical expert (Secretly Tony) that cleared him on all counts. Steve really was very grateful.

But if Tony didn’t stop glaring at Steve across the dining table Steve was going to flip it over. The only reason he hadn’t after Tony’s fifteenth shitty comment was that there was food that didn’t need to be wasted sitting on it. Tony had ordered in a veritable feast.

“You’re going to have to do better than this if you want to pick a fight with me.” Steve warned Tony.

“I thought you were always up for a fight.” Tony challenged.

“I’m feeling particularly gracious today.” Steve said, wide grin plastered across his face.

“So excited to go forth and deceive a nation.” Tony snapped.

“A deception you supported and made possible.” Steve pointed out. Tony grumbled about it. Steve went to stand and walk away but as he rose a glass shattered on the wall behind his head. Tony was still sitting at his seat but his glass was gone.

“If you have something to say, say it.” Steve demanded. Tony stood.

“The world needs good people dedicated to doing the right thing even when its hard.” He snapped. “Even when it isn’t easy. Even when it sucks.”

Steve sighed. “Why do you think I’m here, Tony? For fun?”

“Because you don’t have anything else to do? Because you feel obligated?” Tony shrugged.

“I want to do the right thing.” Steve insisted.

“Since I’ve met you, you have done nothing but act self-righteous while secretly always serving your own goal.” Tony was pacing angrily. “You broke into the storage room on the helicarrier. Even after you berated me for not trusting Fury. You turn out to be a demon in hiding, but call me selfish.”

Steve dodged another glass, returned with his own plate. “This morning you were on my side.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Tony roared. He yanked a plate. Threw it as hard as he could.

“Because you can’t explain it. You’re angry and taking it out on me.” Steve used an arm. Felt the plate shatter against it. “I’m not here to be your scapegoat, Stark.”

“No, you’re hear to be a sanctimonious price with a God Complex.” Tony snapped at him.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” Steve snapped. He lobbed an entire carafe of pasta. It hit Tony in the chest and sent him sprawling backwards. Tony quickly scrambled to his feet and pointed a sauce covered hand at Steve.

“You’re going to ruin us all. Because you don’t know how to think about anyone but yourself.”

“That’s not true.” Steve defended.

“How can you expect anyone to trust you?” Tony demanded.

“I don’t. Not until I prove myself.”

“You’re going to be basing your entire existence on a lie.” Tony seemed to be done tossing things.

“I’m going to be making sure people judge me and not the serum.”

“You think anyone sees a ‘you’ behind the serum? Is there even anyone left?”

“Tony.”

“You said it yourself.” Tony snapped. “You’re nothing without Captain America.”

Steve shoved the entire table into Tony, knocking almost everything on it over. “And you’re a spoiled man who has only learned to think about other people be being a self-sacrificing asshole. You think almost dying for people is going to make them forget that you’re selfish the rest of them time?”

“At least I’m human.” Tony yanked one of the two vases from the mantel and tossed it.

“At least I know how to act like one.” Steve snapped back.

“You pretend to be some kind of hero. But you’re just a soldier. And not even a good one. You're a soldier that doesn’t even know how dangerous they are.” Tony lobbed the other vase full of flowers. Steve stepped to the side to avoid its arc as it fell. Tony was clearly coming after him because of something personal. But it hurt.

Right as the vase smashed next to Steve’s feet, he noticed someone else was in the room. Fury. Steve closed his eyes and immediately dropped the plate that had been in his hand. Across the table, Tony appeared more amused than horrified. Steve wished that he could say the same for himself. He was humiliated. And more- he still had scars on his forehead in almost full view. They might be small and healing, but they were still completely noticeable. Fury regarded them both for a long moment before slouching in to one of the chairs.

“And here I thought you two decided to stay together because you’d learned to get along.”

“What makes you think we’re not?” Tony asked. Fury cast a look at the shattered china. “We were having a great time remembering my dad is all.”

Fury rolled his eyes. “Of course you were.”

“It might have gotten a little heated, sir.” Steve figured it was better to back up Tony’s lie.

“I don’t want to know what was really going on. Do I?” Fury snagged the bottle of wine and Steve’s empty glass. Steve and Tony met eyes across the table. The horrid accusations they’d flung at each other flashed through Steve’s mind.

“No, sir.” He admitted.

“Captain Stars and Stripes over here has a bit of a potty mouth.” Tony teased.

“Oh, I know.” Fury smirked, leaning towards Steve. “I’ve seen the footage they cut from the news reels.”

Steve blushed. There was a high chance of that footage being beyond embarrassing. “Sir.”

“I’ll have to show it to you some time.” Fury continued.

“Secret footage? That my dad didn’t make me watch?” Tony grabbed an extra glass from the sidebar and poured himself another glass of wine. “Maybe he wasn’t as cruel as I thought he was.”

Fury just rolled his eyes but Steve bit his tongue. He didn’t want to tread that ground with Tony. Clearly the man he remembered and the man who’d raised Tony were two very different people. Steve didn’t yet understand why. But he wasn’t going to deny Tony’s trauma just because he cherished the man he knew over half a century before.

“I can only imagine what was on it.” Steve smirked. “The Howlies used to have bets on what we’d say.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You? A gambler? I’ll remember that.”

“I don’t take bets I can’t win.” Steve laughed.

“I’m just mind blown that you weren’t singing the Star Spangled Banner twenty-four seven.” Tony teased. “The stories we got raised on painted you in a much more patriotic light. God only knows what you’re going to do to that reputation.”

And that was the crux of their entire argument, Steve realized. Tony wasn’t mad about not being able to trust Steve as a soldier. It wasn't about S.H.I.E.L.D. not being able to trust Steve's ability. Hell, even Tony didn’t trust Fury. Tony didn’t trust anyone that he did not personally program with his own two hands. The problem was that Tony also didn’t trust Steve as a person. At least, not with Captain America. Not entirely. Tony had been raised to value that shield, that story, his entire life based on the image of a man his father had idolized. And now Steve was here to very much not live up to that standard.

Unfortunately for Tony, that didn’t mean that Steve was going to go anywhere. He was back to being Captain America as soon as Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. would allow it. And even then, it was only because they had his uniform and his shield. Otherwise, Steve would really like to see them try and stop him. They wouldn’t stand a chance.

“You with us, Rogers?” Fury asked him. Steve lacked the capability for a intelligent response.

“Huh?”

“It looks like you went on a bit of a journey without us.” Tony pointed out.

“I guess I did.” Steve gave what he hoped was a earnest seeming bashful smile.

“Where’d you go?” Tony asked.

“I was thinking about what was next.” Steve admitted. And that was pretty much the truth.

“Already?” Fury looked concerned. Steve smiled.

“You were the one to mention getting me back into the world, sir.” Steve reminded him. Fury nodded but didn’t immediately launch in to some grand plan for bringing back the Howling Commandos so Steve realized that the plan probably didn’t exist.

“The world already knows Captain America is back.” Fury began. “We couldn’t stop the footage leaking.”

Steve nodded. He’d assumed as much. “So we don’t need to make an announcement. Right to work.”

“Sort of.” Fury winced.

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Tony laughed. He leaned back in his seat. “And neither should you.”

Steve frowned. “I don’t.”

It turned out that the grand plan was to play into the “Old Fashioned American Values” of Captain America’s image. It explained the clothes that Fury gave him after New York. Vastly different from what he’d seen Tony or Bruce wear. They wanted him to invoke nostalgia. They were going to use him on missions, of course, because he was a valuable asset. But his main role would be the face of the Avengers. Someone slightly less abrasive than Tony Stark.

“I may be about to go in front of congress.” Tony admitted to Steve. Steve hadn’t heard that.

"You will." Fury agreed.

"Again." Tony sighed. "You know, I'm starting to take it personally."

Steve opened and closed his mouth a few times before managing words. “Why?”

“Something about owning a Weapon of Mass Destruction.” Tony shrugged, entirely unconcerned.

“You own _what_?” Steve practically shouted.

“It’s the suit, Steve.” He explained with a laugh. “They’re calling the Iron Man suit a WMD.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Playing in to peoples’ fear. It’s dangerous.”

“When it’s unwarranted.” Tony clipped. His demeanor shifted from relaxed to agitated.

“It also won’t be happening for at least a few months. Probably closer to a year.” Fury interjected, dragging their anger away from each other. “We just need to be prepared for it. Having someone else perceived as leading the Avengers keeps them out of the crossfire.”

Steve had a feeling ‘perceived’ was the key word there.

“I’m not opposed to filling whatever role you give.” Steve lied through his teeth. “As long as I’m allowed to actually serve. I don’t want to just be a performer.”

Tony smirked. “Hey, dad said you looked pretty good in tights.”

“Howard thought everyone looked pretty good in tights.” Steve snapped back. Tony laughed.

“If we could focus.” Fury cut in. He was annoyed with them. Tony held up his hands in surrender.

“The floor is yours, Oh Fearless Leader.” He ignored Fury’s glare and went back to eating.

“You’d serve. But it wouldn’t be in the red white and blue.” Fury began, looking directly at Steve. “That’s too recognizable and, frankly, a little too partisan. Our team has a new suit that they think you’d approved of. It’s a little more subtle.”

Steve smirked. “A little less old fashioned.”

“A little less old fashioned.” Fury agreed with a nod. “Only for missions without the Avengers.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “I’d be doing missions without the Avengers?”

“Not every mission requires assembling the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.” Fury intoned. “Sometimes it’s just a bad guy with a big weapon. S.H.I.E.L.D. deals with these threats all the time and, being honest, our Strike Team could use the support.”

Steve frowned but was surprised when Tony was the one to speak. “What’s this Strike Team?”

“They’re who we send in when we don’t want the flashy suits and headlines.” Fury said sharply.

“So they’re more subtle.” Steve could see the benefit. Stealth was as useful a weapon as any.

“The most subtle.” Fury agreed. “And our best.”

Tony was offended. “Hey.”

“Don’t push it or he’ll start talking wormholes and nuclear weapons again.” Steve warned Fury.

“I feel like I get a few more days to live that one up.” Tony declared. “It was selfless and it saved the day and I could have died.”

Fury looked unimpressed. “Do you want a gold star?”

“I could buy my own if I did.” Tony told him with a haughty jut of his chin. Fury stood from the table.

“If you’re interested, Captain.” He said as he walked out, without even turning around. “Swing by the Triskelion and meet the team. Tomorrow. Someone will be there to show you around.”

Fury left, or Steve assumed he did because he didn’t hear the front door. But the man liked to move around without making much of a sound. He was eerily quiet when he wanted to be. Steve considered the offer that he had made. Fury hadn’t even looked twice at the scars. Or pressed either of them too hard about the masses of shattered plates and ruined food around the table. This could get him out of the apartment and give him a real way to serve again. It sounded perfect.

“I think you need to really consider this before saying yes.” Tony said finally.

“I don’t know why I wouldn’t.”

“So you’re going to be an Avenger _and_ you’re going to join this Strike Team thing?” Tony asked.

“Yes.”

“I beg of you to look in to Black Ops before you decide that it’s something you want to take part in. You've got an overgrown since of morality that doesn't really suite shadowy government work.” Tony didn’t look impressed. He stood from the table and started cleaning up the mess. “If the public doesn’t know it exists, it’s because there’s something to hide. If I don’t know it exists, it’s because that something is also something that they’re ashamed of.”

“That’s pretty egotistical thinking, Tony.” Steve gave him a disapproving frown.

“I just got all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files while we were on the Helicarrier. There was nothing about Strike Team on any of those files.” Tony looked troubled by it. “I’m not saying it’s definitely a bad thing. I’m just saying that it bears some thought as to why it was too classified even for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most secure server.”

“It wasn’t that secure if you were able to get in to it in twenty minutes.” Steve pointed out.

“It was at least an hour and you underestimate me.” Tony shook his head. “So does S.H.I.E.L.D..”

Steve sighed. “Listen. Tony. About what I said.”

“Let's just forget about.” Tony interrupted. “Emotions ran high. We both said a lot of mean things that we didn't actually mean. Let's just forget about it.”

Steve nodded. “I want you to know that I’m invested in being Captain America. It matters to me.”

“I know you’re the only man for the job.” Tony agreed. And with that, he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	9. Secret

The agony of each strike against the punching bag was outweighed in large measure by the way Steve’s body seemed to respond to the physical exertion. He’d broken two bags already and didn’t feel himself wanting to slow down. He was still building up strength. Steve was in the best shape of his entire life now. Even stronger than when he’d first been injected. The training, which was rigorous and difficult, helped make him just as good technically as he was strong.

Though he was running out of teachers willing to train him. Most found it a bit daunting.

The bag sagged, deflating slowly, eventually just hanging limply from its rope as Steve watched it fail. He resented to need to pause his work to set up another bag. If the small gym had the room he would have tried to set up a second set up so that he could have two bags ready at any given time, but there just wasn’t the space. As it was the room had been storage before S.H.I.E.L.D. had given the super the money to restore it.

This apartment was the limit of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s leash on Steve. He wasn’t tracked as much as he had been in his first few months with the department, but the Strike Team eventually stopped expecting him to have disappeared every time he wasn’t home when they called. For the most part. Now, the tracking mostly fell to the media that found his continued existence an absolute newsworthy event on a daily basis. Every. Day.

Bending down to grab the replacement bag and lifting it back in to place caused Steve’s back to spasm. He dropped it and let out a small shout- careful not to alert any of the neighbors- before he stooped to pick it up again. His back protested under the strain and Steve cursed at himself. What time was it? Had he exercised for too long?

The clock on the wall said it was just before seven. He’d been there less than two hours. There was no way that he’d managed to overwork himself in that short of a time period. Most days he had to make sure he got a solid three or his body felt lethargic and stiff. Usually he could get to four before his back started giving him trouble. His muscles grew at a rate that demanded Steve work them to support them.

He was still wincing, holding his back gingerly, when the door opened. A pretty woman with blonde hair and a wide smile stepped in, saw him, and almost dropped the laundry basket that she was holding.

“This isn’t the laundry room.” She seemed embarrassed, turning a soft shade of red.

“No.” Steve shook his head. She didn’t leave. Steve waited patiently, holding his back.

“I’m new.” She explained. She held extended a hand to him. “I’m Kate.”

Steve held up his taped hands as an excuse not to take it. “Steve.”

“Is your back okay?” She asked him. “I’m a nurse. I could take look.”

As she stepped forward, Steve jerked a few steps backwards. “I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t aware we had a gym.” She said after an awkwardly long pause.

“It’s not for public use.” Steve explained. It came out sharper than he intended.

The woman just nodded and was gone before Steve could explain himself or apologize. He hadn’t meant it as an admonishment. He certainly hadn’t been the one to bar the rest of the apartment building from using the space. S.H.I.E.L.D. had done that without talking to him and, frankly, the way his neighbors had clearly judged him for it hadn’t been worth it. Steve maybe didn’t want to be gawked at while he worked out but he didn’t want the whole building to ostracize him either. That move had effectively made him the building’s pariah, superhero Avenger or not.

Maybe he should go after her and apologize. There was only one person in this building that hadn’t hated him yet. Steve could’ve used a friend that wasn’t a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent or on the Strike Team. He had precious few of those. Absolutely none, if he was going to be honest.

Her name was probably on the intercom. Maybe he’d tape an apology note to her door.

Would that be creepy or endearing?

He wasn’t sure, so he stuck to hanging the new (well, it was recently repaired) punching bag onto the ceiling and moved to start his workout again. He took one swing, let out a pained shout, and hit the ground. His back. Steve hissed through clenched teeth and forced himself to stand back up. He was stronger than this. He could finish this work out.

Another swing.

This time he managed to stay standing.

Another swing.

He had to hold on to the bag to keep himself from falling over. Steve clung to it like a life preserver for a full thirty seconds before he felt strong enough to keep going. He took a step back, felt the world tilt, and latched on to the bag again. He could practically feel the blood pulsing through his back as it throbbed but Steve refused to listen to it. He wasn’t going to let the pain stop him. Steve was used to pain and knew how to work through it. He’d get through this too.

“You.”

Punch.

“Are.”

Punch.”

“Stronger.”

Punch.

“Than.”

Punch.

“This.”

By the last word Steve was in so much pain he felt the room tilt dangerously. He took several steps back and sat on the bench meant for weightlifting. Which Steve was supposed to do after he finished 50 reps of 100 on the punching bags. And he wasn’t going to let a small twinge in his back keep him from getting every single one of those punches in.

“I can do this.” Steve whispered to himself. He stood, faced the bag, and told himself to swing.

Nothing happened. His arm refused to arc the way he’d trained it too. He stood there, resenting himself, and waiting for the punch to happen. But no matter how hard he willed his body to act, it did nothing. He remained standing at the ready until a voice interrupted him.

“Were you waiting for it to swing first?” Tony asked him. “I don’t think that’s how those work.”

Tony’s interruption of Steve’s workout was ill-timed. Steve took one last swing at the punching bag, just to prove to himself that he could, and turned towards Tony with a sigh. He tried to remind himself that he’d agreed to Tony’s terms which included random drop-ins and Steve hadn’t had one in months. Steve left the small gym and led Tony up the stairs to his apartment.

“Don’t you have like…a whole company to run?” Steve asked him.

“Not really.” Tony shrugged. “I find things run smoother when I let Pepper handle the day to day.”

Steve paused. “I’m glad she’s okay. And I heard about your house.”

“Don’t. I have several.” Tony said it casually. Steve didn’t see how he could be so cavalier about losing his home. The one he’d shared with Pepper. But then, Tony had been going through a lot. Steve had seen the news about the Mandarin.

“We got the guy, at least.”

“You could have called.” Steve quietly. “I would have backed you up.”

Tony waved a hand dismissively. “I think you were in Jordan. Maybe Israel. I’m not sure.”

“So you did call?” Steve asked, confused.

“No, but I do get updates when you leave the country.” Tony said it with a shrug but Steve resented the reminder of how much control Tony had over him. Since Stark Industries had taken the lead on certifying Captain America’s health, Steve was to report to them on everything. Even now.

“It’s been a year, I figured they’d let me have a few less babysitters.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“You’re deploying. You have your own apartment. You can even go on dates.” Tony leered at him.

Steve just groaned.

“I don’t want to complain about you not telling me about the brunette from accounting.” He trailed off.

“But you are anyway?” Steve supplied. Tony nodded and tossed Steve a water bottle from his own fridge. Steve didn’t want to talk about the date. He didn’t want to talk about work. He wanted to go back down to his gym and punch something for a few more hours.

“I certainly am. It wasn’t even mentioned in your weekly reports.” Tony admonished him.

“It didn’t seem relevant or noteworthy.” Steve shrugged. At Tony’s look he sighed. “You disagree?”

“I’m just saying. Captain America goes on a date and people do take notice.” Tony shrugged.

“You mean Natasha.” Steve rolled his eyes. “What, are you two in a group chat or something?”

Tony didn’t confirm or deny anything.

“So are you just here to get details?” Steve asked him.

“Wouldn’t say no to them.”

“We went to Ocean Prime. I ordered the steak. She ordered the salmon. We had red wine. She ordered dessert, but I didn’t.” Steve rattled off the details like he was reading a work report. “At the end of the night I walked her to the metro and then rode my bike home.”

Tony just blinked a few times. Finally, he cracked a grin. “You sound super in to her.”

“I’m not.” Steve assured him.

“Then why the date?” Tony questioned.

Steve snorted. “Blame Natasha. It’s her way of contributing to Fury’s little black book.”

“You maybe should have clarified what’s going in the book. I think she’s confusing it with the other kind of little black book.” Tony suggested, scratching his chin.

“Just get on with the tests.” Steve laughed. Tony pulled out a few tools.

Steve hopped up on to his counter so that he could rest while Tony went through the motions of the check-up for their files. Of course, they had a separate file which they’d send to S.H.I.E.L.D. which was modified to make sure everything about Steve passed without issue. No red flags, no questions, and no nosy S.H.I.E.L.D. doctors talking about anything anomalous in Steve’s reports.

“I know we’ve got this routine down.” Tony told him. “But humor me.” 

Steve just gave him a level look. “Isn’t that what I’m already doing?”

“No, this is called ‘keeping your job’ which you’re very welcome for.’ Tony smiled.

Steve chuckled to himself. He and Tony weren’t close. At least not talk-every-day close, even though they did because Tony’s terms demanded it. Steve was happy to answer any questions Tony had if it meant the other man trusted him enough to continue covering for him.

“Anything to report?” Tony asked him, stethoscope against Steve’s back.

“Nope.” Steve ignored the hitch in his breath as the stethoscope hit a sore area.

“You ok?” Tony asked him. 

“Fine. I’m fine.” Steve assured him. “It was just cold.”

Tony nodded and kept going. “You say so, pal.”

“Yeah.” Steve said dumbly.

“Hows the back? The head?” Steve knew what he was really asking and didn’t mention the pain.

“Fine.” Steve answered, shrugging.

They continued along this vein for another thirty minutes. Steve ignored the way his back twinged when Tony asked him to do certain stretches. He managed to do them all with a straight face. There weren’t any outward issues, so Tony saw nothing out of the ordinary when inspected the area where they’d removed the wings.

“There’s hardly a scar.” Tony admired.

“It’s been almost a year.” Steve reminded him.

“It was a pretty major procedure.” Tony tested the skin with his fingers. Steve bit back a winced. 

“I haven’t had any noticeable issues with it.” Steve rolled his shoulders, trying to prove a point. It stung.

“What about your head?” Tony asked. Steve faced him and pulled up the hair where the scares would be. “Nothing there either. Looks like brand new. Any pain or discomfort? Headaches?”

Yes, all the time. And only when Steve avoided sleeping. “No, everything’s normal.”

“I guess you wouldn’t be able to tell if you were going crazy.” Tony considered.

Would seeing his dead best friend almost every night as he slept count? “I guess I wouldn’t.”

“We should look in to having a S.H.I.E.L.D. shrink take a look at you. Play it off as an annual thing. They’d have no reason to think it was anything else. Therapy isn’t a bad thing, you know. Past experiences excused as Fury being, well, Fury.” Tony made a few more notes on his phone and Steve tried not to snap at him for the suggestion. “I know you have a thing against them, and I get it after the last two, but it can’t hurt to have them take a look. Better safe than sorry.”

“Why?” Steve challenged.

“Because you’re three cats short of a full blown breakdown and we both know it.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“What if I saw a non-S.H.I.E.L.D. doctor?” Steve suggested. Tony snorted.

“That won’t fly. It would raise too many questions. Fury would get involved.” Tony shook his head.

“I guess you’re right.” Steve could see the point even if he wished the answer was different.

“I’ll have Big Red give you the details once it’s all set up.” Tony tossed his tools into his bag.

“Good seeing you, Tony.” Steve told him. And it had been.

Tony paused as he got to the doorway. Steve waited for him to say whatever was on his mind, but Tony eventually just turned to him and gave a short wave before letting himself out of Steve’s apartment. It was after nine now and Steve knew it would raise questions if he went back to the gym. A little bit resentfully, he yanked a book from the shelf and went in to his study to read. 

* * *

 

Steve woke up and could barely move because of the stiffness in his back. It took several minutes of bracing breaths before he managed get himself upright. It angered him that his body was so weak. A hot shower helped him move a little more humanly. A run would help more. The challenge of maintaining a punishing pace was usually the best thing to distract Steve from the way his body liked to complain. He tugged on shorts and a top, ready to hit usual route along the reservoir. Before he got too far Natasha messaged him.

_pickup in 10_

“Great.” Steve snapped to himself. Instead of taking it out on her, he typed a short response.

_Okay. I will be on the curb. I'm wearing my red hat._

_Dont type like such an old man_. Her response was immediate. Steve laughed to himself.

_You type like a 13 year old girl._ He shot back.

_13yo use more emojis_

_Emojis?_

:-) ;-) :-(

_Yes, those do look like things that you would use._

_Im here :-)_

* * *

 

 

 

Natasha was leaning against a silver sedan immediately outside his front door. She’d recently shifted her style from constant S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms to more casual wear. Apparently, a mission she was working required her to blend in at a moment’s notice. Steve thought the striking straight red hair was still going to stand out in the crowd, but the civilian clothes did suit her more than the black and grey.

“Nice civies.” He teased her. Natasha ignored him.

“New neighbor?” She asked. Steve stared at her in confusion before realizing that she must’ve met Kate.

“Kate? Yeah. She just moved in, I think.” Steve shrugged. “I haven’t talked to her much.”

“How about Martha? Talked to her much?” Natasha smirked over at him and Steve rolled his eyes.

“No.” He said shortly.

She drove them south from the city and away from the early morning rush-hour traffic further south towards Quantico. This was not the standard warehouse they based out of. The Triskelion was a much shorter drive. Steve didn’t ask her where they were headed until they pulled up to the base’s main gate. Her answer was cryptic and obviously told Steve nothing, which he didn’t appreciate.

She pulled the car up in front of a nondescript warehouse that wasn’t even given a building number or designation that Steve could see. It was big and ugly and a weird non-grey but non-blue color. Steve wasn’t impressed by it. Natasha still wasn’t telling him anything and Steve wasn’t gong to bother asking for much longer. Instead, when he spotted the lead of Strike Team, he demanded a status report.

“We’re headed into Oman.” Rumlow told him. “Wheels up in ten.”

He walked away before Steve could ask for more information. He swore to himself. “Great.”

“No stress, Rogers.” Natasha clapped him on the shoulder.

“Guess we’re going in dark?” He asked. She nodded.

“We’ll get briefed in the air. You know how Fury likes to do things.” She shrugged.

Steve sighed. “Unfortunately.”

He changed into his uniform, a stealth navy blue and white one developed as part PR and part functionality. Personally, Steve liked the way it moved better than his classic suit. But there was more nostalgia to it. He liked what it stood for. It was symbolic, if not entirely functional.

“Board up, Cap.” Rumlow shouted from the plane’s gate. Steve jogged over, pulling his bag over his should as he jogged. As he passed Rumlow, the other man pulled him to a stop. “Toss the bag. Crew’ll stash it until we get back.”

Steve did it without asking. Some jobs required the travel as light as possible. He watched a crewman grab it even before the plane’s door was lifted shut. All it had was extra ammo and his other clothes. Nothing critical. He followed Rumlow to the front of the plane where there was already a display up with details on the op. 

* * *

 

They were pinned down from the moment they set foot on the ground. Under incredibly heavy fire. Steve had managed to advance a grand total of twenty feet from the landing zone and had at least another two hundred before he reached the facility they needed to infiltrate. A heavy artillery round slammed into the side of the Humvee they were hiding behind. Steve braced himself, but impact even made his teeth rattle.

“So much for coming in dark.” Natasha quipped from beside him.

“What? You don’t like the welcome party?” Steve asked her. “They went through all this trouble.”

She smiled at him, looked over the hood of the car towards the assailants. “You know me. I’m low maintenance. A couple of low paid henchmen with pistols and I’m a happy girl.”

“I’m sure they’re sorry you’re disappointed.” Steve assured here.

“Cap. Draw fire to the left side. We’re going up the right.” Rumlow called over the coms.

“Copy that.” Steve responded.

“How, exactly, do you plan to ‘copy that’ Rogers.” Natasha asked him. “ _We’re_ on the left side.”

“Exactly.” Steve smiled at her.

This was what he enjoyed the most, if he had to pick a favorite. The strategy taking place in the heat of battle. It was less politics and men in suits and more boots on the ground tacticians actually getting things done. Steve liked getting his hands dirty. Natasha waited for him to do something. Steve couldn’t see exactly where the other side was firing from. There weren’t high structures or trees around the airfield, just other cars. Which gave Steve an idea.

“Shift the car into neutral.” Steve told Natasha.

“Alright.”  The door was locked so she smashed the window and climbed in the passenger side.

“Done?” He asked her when she reappeared. She nodded.

“They left the keys in the ignition and everything.” She told him.

“Alright, take cover.” Steve motioned for her to get because him.

Steve opened the rear door and leveraged himself to push the vehicle forward, forcing the car to move- slowly but steadily- towards the enemy forces. Now, Steve and Natasha had a moving barricade. Natasha saw what Steve was trying to do and climbed inside the car, firing as the car started to pick up speed. They were now a literally a moving target.

“Dive when I tell you to.” Steve called to her. Natasha acknowledged the command with a nod.

Steve was at a full sprint now. The car was easily going twenty or more miles an hour. A battering ram.

They were also under heavy fire. Steve detached the door while he ran, ripping it from its hinges.

“Dive.” Steve screamed.

They both aimed for the same ditch, landing side by side. Steve used the door as overhead cover, allowing Natasha to fire cover for both of them. The Humvee had continued to roll, hitting one of their other cars hard enough to be a distraction but did not actual damage. But the purpose had been served. All of the enemy forces were now focused in their direction.

“I really hope you’re busting ass, Rumlow.” Steve called. “Because we’ve got company over here.”

Rumlow was silent. Steve swore.

“That’s not a good sign.” Natasha drawled, pointing out the obvious.

“We should go help them.” He told Natasha. She scoffed and picked off an attacker headed their way.

“They should come help us.” She retorted.

“Natasha.” Steve warned.

It happened as he stood. Something about the way he lifted the car door caused his back to buckly. It distracted both him and Natasha. She was surprised to hear his shout of pain and he was surprised to feel it. As a result, neither of them saw the man racing up with some kind of gun Steve had never seen before. It fired a blue light that was eerily familiar and smacked Steve firmly in the chest.

He stayed down for a second. The door from the car had landed over his head and Steve needed the moment to remember how to breathe through the pain. Then he launched the like a frisbee, using his shield to deflect two follow up shots to his head. The door caught the man in the chest, taking him down permanently. Natasha was staring at him. Steve felt a rage burning inside his chest.

“Get in that building. See what Rumlow is doing.” He snapped at her.

“Steve.” She looked concerned.

“I’m fine.” He insisted. “Get in there. Get it done. Get back to the plane.”

She gave him a mock salute. “Aye aye, Captain.”

She took off, chasing the sound of gunfire from the building. Steve walked to the downed attacker and yanked the gun from it’s strap. It looked like a modified shotgun, almost, but with a larger stock and a fore-end. The magazine had a strip that glowed a sickeningly familiar shade of blue that Steve shouldn’t have had to see twice to recognize.

He jogged to the warehouse. The gunfire had died down but Steve needed to see what kind of operation was using tesseract powered weapons. As far as Steve knew S.H.I.E.L.D. was the only organization besides Hydra that had every possessed the capability. Bile built up in the back of his throat. The tesseract was like the ghost that Steve couldn’t get to stop haunting him. He wished the damnable thing to hell repeatedly in his mind.

“I haven’t gotten the all clear.” Steve said over the coms. “Status?”

The radio was nothing but static for a minute. “We’ve got them pinned down inside, Captain.”

“I think we’re done here.” Rumlow seconded his man’s response. Steve slowed his jog to a walk.

“I’m on my way anyway.” Steve cleared a few Humvees and ignored a growing headache.

“Anyone left outside?” Natasha asked him. Steve didn’t see anyone.

“Not that I can see.” Steve reported. He turned too fast and felt himself go unsteady on his feet. He sagged against the Humvee and had to force himself not to fall. It took a lot. His back was spasming. His head throbbed. He thought his head might be bleeding because something was making his vision blurry. Steve swallowed.

“On second thought, I’ll meet you all on the plane.” Steve called in.

“Strike Team head out.” Rumlow ordered. Steve started to hobble his way down the airstrip.

* * *

 

Natasha was mad at him. Steve could tell that she was mad at him. He hadn’t had a second to explain to her what had happened. How the weapons had terrified him. That he was in pain before they’d ever left for the mission. He’d never intended to tell her that last bit because he didn’t think that she needed to know, really, but he would if she needed to hear it. Instead she sat on the far end of the plane nursing what looked like a nasty gash on her arm.

An hour in to the flight back Steve left his seat and went to sit next to her. He froze a few steps away.

“I really don’t want to give my report right now.” She told him without even opening her eyes.

“Hey, the mission was a success.” Steve shrugged. “I feel like the report can wait.”

Natasha cracked a single eye, glanced towards the retrieved crates, and shut them again. “Ok.”

“Natasha.”

“You should know better than that.” She snapped. Her eyes opened and she glared at him.

“Than what?” He asked her.

“Than to ever come on a mission injured.” She elaborated. She crossed her arms, clearly immediately regretted it due to the gash, but refused to uncross them based purely on principle. “You should’ve sat this one out if you weren’t up to it.”

Steve sighed, settled in to the seat next to hers. “I’m fine.”

“You nearly buckled under a car door.” She leveled him with a disapproving stare.

“I’d been hit. I’m okay.” Steve shook his head. “I wouldn’t have come if it was a problem.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “You did come. And it was a problem.”

“It was a success, wasn’t it?” Steve asked her. His back ached leaning against the vibrating plane walls so he leaned forward and propped himself up on that knee. “I was fine. The mission was a success.”

“You took a hit because you were off your game.” She snapped.

“I got hit. It happens.” Steve tried to reason with her.

“And what if next time it’s not you that gets hit?” She asked him. Steve looked down at his hands.

“I made a judgement call.” Steve said softly. “I know you don’t agree. But I know my own limits, ok?”

She scoffed. “I think you want to be a hero so badly you’re willing to die to be one.”

“Natasha.” 

“You know sometimes the hero can live, right?” She asked him. “You don’t have to be such a self-sacrificing asshole all the time. Hurting yourself doesn’t prove that you’re stronger than anybody else.”

Steve just swallowed. “That’s not what this is.”

“Sure.” She closed her eyes again.

“I’m fine.”

“Of course.” She nodded, but her eyes stayed clothes.

Sensing that she was done talking to him, Steve stood up to leave. He’d sleep the rest of the way back and be rested enough to work out once he got back to the apartment building. He could get a solid few hours in if he’d calculated the time change right.

“You need to check that gash in the mirror.” Natasha said as he stood. “It looks bad.” 

Steve went to dismiss it. “I’m f-”

“You’re fine, I know. You always are.” She rolled her eyes. “But check it out anyway.” 

* * *

 The blow from the gun that knocked him to the ground had gashed his forehead right along where the horns had grown through. Steve had panicked when he saw it in the mirror. You could just barely see the edge of the bone where they had filed the horn down so it wouldn’t be visible. Steve had quickly grabbed some gauze and a first aid kit, which made Strike Team laugh, before locking himself in the bathroom. This had to be treated now. He wasn’t even sure how best to handle the situation.

Usually his cuts healed quickly enough the stitches weren’t necessary. Steve hoped that taping the edges of the skin together would allow it to heal before anyone questioned Steve about what it was or asked to look at it. By his usual rates, it should be health by the time they landed.

His back felt uncomfortable. Constrained. It felt like every time he moved, something got pinched or strained. Reaching up to treat his forehead was practically impossible. He peeled off the thick, protective jacket of the suit. it left him in his heavy combat pants and a thin t-shirt. Steve could feel the fabric of it clinging to his skin damply. He took the gauze and wrapped it around the tape on his forehead, hoping to both hold it in place and disguise exactly what area the damage occurred in.

He was packing the first aid kit back up when he realized that the dampness on his t-shirt wasn’t sweat, but blood. He lifted it away from his body stiffly and swore to himself.

“I’m getting really tired of it always being blood.” He muttered.

“This is going to be harder to hide from everyone.”

He’d assumed he just got hit. There had been a lot of shrapnel flying around and Steve had been a little preoccupied with not dying. It was possible that he just missed it due to the adrenaline. But that was wishful thinking. He thought back over the past several days. The pain that had never really gone away after the surgery. The stiffness.

Something had been left in his back.

Something was regrowing.

Steve could feel it starting to poke through the skin- right where he’d been bleeding into his t-shirt. It was small and spindly and looked almost like a bone of some kind. If Steve flexed in the right way he could make the bone wiggle and dance. But it was also numb, unlike the full grown wings had been. Steve could feel them in his hand but there was no sensation in the bone itself. 

“Captain?” Someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you okay in there?"

Steve winced. “I’m fine.”

“Not used to dressing a wound?” The voice asked with a laugh. Steve forced a laugh with them.

“No, I’m not.” Steve agreed.

“Do you want any help?” They offered.

“No, I’m figuring it out. Thanks.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Typically, this would be no big deal. Steve would swap our his bloody shirt for the one in his bag. But that was the bag at Rumlow had told him not to bring. So he was left with a bloody shirt. A bloody shirt he couldn’t explain. Because there was no damage to the jacket that went over it. Unless. Steve eyes the jacket and the utility knife on his back.

If he could make it look like a slice- both across the jacket and across his back- then nobody would question it. Steve just needed to make it look convincing. He started with the jacket because that would be the easiest piece. It was a single sharp cut from left to right. He lined up the t-shirt and made an identical cut on this.

Which just left his back.

Steve knew what he had to do. And the first step was going to be getting rid of the evidence that this was anything but a knife wound. He wrapped a hand around the bone on the right side and yanked as hard as he could. It dislocated with a sharp twist and Steve nearly collapsed on the spot. He choked back a scream, ignored the way his hands shook, and yanked a second time. This time something dislodged.

He got sick into the small toilet and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.

Then he repeated the job on the left side.

The pain was indescribable. Steve was only grateful the drone of the plane drowned out anything below a shout or the others would have definitely heard his retching. In the end he was left with two six inch length of bone that hinged part way through. They looked sad and small and deformed. Steve snapped them both at the hinge and shoved them in a pocket. It wouldn’t do to try and dispose of them on-board the plane where someone could see them.

He tugged the shirt back over his head. And the jacket. He managed to pinch some color in to his cheeks so they didn’t look so pale and drawn. Then he went back out to the others and let them tease him for being scared about a head wound. Steve just smiled and laughed as if that was the only worry he had. Only Natasha, who always seemed to see too much, stared at him with concern as if he’d walked out an announced he’d found a fatal wound. He didn’t want to lie to her again and tell her he was fine. So he sent her a smile and a wave and motioned for her to go back to sleep.

Steve tried to as well, but the sick feeling in his stomach didn’t go away.


	10. No Medicine for Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr)

Steve finished running his laps around the monuments before the sun even rose. He considered the opportunity to run double his usual amount, but didn’t want to have the reporters he’d seen following him say anything more about his “self-destructive tendencies” as the Washington Chronicle was always wanting to call them. He ground his teeth together in frustration. He was glad the dark gave a cover for his scowl. He hadn’t been able to help the sleep come and eventually he accepted the fact that it just wasn’t going to be arriving. So Steve had gotten up and gotten his day started. At three in the morning.

It was better than being in  his apartment. His apartment hurt. His mind liked to play tricks on him there.

There were no other cars on the road in this part of the city yet. So the black sedan that would usually blend in to the D.C. crowds during the morning rush hour stood out like a sore thumb. They hadn’t even bothered to change locations so Steve had seen them parked in the same spot during each of his laps. One time he even saw them pull out binoculars as if he couldn’t plainly see them watching him. 

He also had a stop to make that he didn’t want them to see. It was time to pretend to head home. He turned through the park at the end of the mall, past the courthouses and National Building Museum. It was a pedestrian only pathways the cut through the blocks of D.C. way faster than a car would be able to. If he moved quickly, eventually the reporters would lose sight of him. So, Steve did. And when he could no longer see the sedan, he slowed his run into a walk. 

There was a small park on the corner of Massachusetts Avenue and 5th Street that was usually a hub of activity. It was a surrounded by busy streets and had bus stops posted on multiple corners. It added a layer of anonymity to his actions because nobody going by was looking at him. He was invisible here. That had been the reason for picking this location. But still, Steve hesitated while reaching under the bench where a small paper bag should be taped, stashed there for him. That's where he was told it was going to be. He groped blindly for a few minutes before hitting it. It was small enough to stick into his pocket without being noticeable. 

His heart was pounding faster than it should. Steve knew his practiced casualness wouldn't fool anyone. He waited on the bench for another ten minutes, just to be safe that nobody would be suspicious. And then he got up and walked away as if nothing had happened. Slowly and casually, so that it didn’t look like he had anything to hide. Steve walked the distance to his apartment in under fifteen minutes. It was practically a straight shot down Massachusetts Avenue.

Back in the safety of his apartment, he found the two vials that he’d been promised. The first few drops he’d paid for five or six at a time but found that to be too conspicuous. The two vials would last him a month and he could easily get more doses when he was done. He had a system in place. Varying drop and pick up locations. After checking them, he went into his living room to the small hiding place he’d hollowed out underneath his record player. Nobody used that thing but him. Steve slid the drug in the hole and then latched it back closed.

He did what he could to ignore the sound in his bedroom. But eventually, like every day, he caved.

The serum- Acetovaxidol- he’d learned about online was keeping him from growing anything else. He’d had no more spurs, as he’d learned that demons called them, since he’d started taking it. Which was fantastic as far as he was concerned because they hurt like nothing else Steve had ever experienced. But there was one, really only one, detrimental side effect. Steve walked in to his bedroom where Bucky was waiting in the corner, eyes wide and terrified. Steve’s brain was being cruel to him. The days his mind imagined Bucky not knowing him were the worst.

“Hey, Bucky.” Steve said softly.

Bucky’s only response was a whimper.

As far as side effects go, this one was sadistically painful.

His best guess was that, because the serum also increased sensitivity, it was Steve's body dealing with the emotional trauma. Demons didn't process emotions the same was as humans. The were usually more muted. The serum worked to counteract that by ramping everything up to eleven. 

Steve crawled back in to the bed. He put his back to Bucky. He had to. Days like this Bucky didn’t even know him. He sat, sobbing to himself and muttering words Steve didn’t understand in the corner of the bedroom. Until he wasn’t. In the bedroom, at least. Steve couldn't speak to whether he was still crying or the muttering. Bucky usually came at night but popped in and out of the room seemingly at random. Steve had tracked it for a few weeks but hadn’t found a discernable pattern.

His mind really liked inflicting random torture. Steve considered it penance for his sins.

“I’m going to try and get a few hours' sleep.” Steve said to the emptiness. 

Bucky wouldn’t respond.

“I have another meeting with the S.H.I.E.L.D. psychologist today.” He continued.

“They scheduled it special and I’m not sure why.” Steve vented. He stared up at the ceiling and focused on the poorly done patch directly above the bed. It was just a few shades too white and always caught Steve’s eye. “I don’t think I’ve done anything they can get mad at me for.”

Not that they knew of anyway. Steve was incredibly careful.

Bucky let out a gasp that sounded pained and Steve, without thinking, broke one of the cardinal rules.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Steve rolled and leaned over the side of the bed, reaching for where Bucky was curled into the fetal position. This was the worst Bucky had ever been. Steve went to place a hand on Bucky’s arm. As soon as he’d done it he knew that it was a mistake. His hand passed through the nothingness, jarring them both. Bucky was flickering out for longer than he was staying.

“I don’t want to go.” Bucky cried. “Don't make me go. I don't want to go.”

A fist connected with Steve’s jaw. It felt like an actual impact, making Steve wince.

“Well, that was new.” Steve groaned, sitting up slowly.

"Don't make me go." He whimpered.

Bucky was flickering like a bad light bulb. Steve knew that it meant he’d be gone soon. Bucky let out an anguished shout, so loud Steve would’ve worried about the neighbors if it wasn’t all in his mind. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed and waited. He was tired. Hurting. It was the third time in a month he’d watched it happen. Bucky was always begging to be saved and Steve was always unable to stop it.

The psychologist was going to have a field day with that one if he mentioned it, Steve was sure. What was the common prescription for someone who daydreamed about repeatedly failing to save their childhood best friend? Steve rubbed the sore spot on his jaw. It had all felt real. Seeing him always felt so real. But Google had told him delusions sometimes worked that way. Steve could only do his best to separate the delusion from reality. Given that he’d watched Bucky fall, personally played a role in his death, Steve had no problem recognizing that Bucky being alive was a delusion his brain was using to cope. But still, Steve rubbed the spot on his jaw that felt sore. He pressed it as if the pain meant anything.

His stupid brain liked coping by hurting him. ‘You’re alive! He could be too!’

If it was meant to make Steve feel less alone, it failed. All he could feel afterwards was crushing emptiness. The medication he'd been taking allowed him to feel everything so much more strongly. It was apparently a side effect of counteracting the genetics that caused Demon attributes to surface. But it made Steve long for the numbness he'd felt before Tony had removed the wings. He'd been in pain from the growth, but he honestly preferred it to this aching emptiness.

* * *

Steve held himself rigid in the plastic chairs of the room. It was closer to an interrogation room than a psychologists office, much like the last few times Steve had come in. He wondered if this was special treatment just for him or if this was how S.H.I.E.L.D. treated all of their patients. His arms were crossed and he faced the man across the table from him with a scowl. He made a mental note to call Tony and cuss at him for forcing him back in to these sessions.

“I’m not sure why you’re bringing it up again.” Steve said through gritted teeth. It had been six months.

“Your records don’t explain this very clear anomaly.” The doctor shoved a map at him.

“Screw your anomaly.” Steve yanked the paper from the Doctor’s hands and crushed it into a ball. The paper was already crumpled from their last meeting. “I've told you I don’t know why we were off course. I didn’t notice that we were off course when we went down.”

The Doctor cleared his throat. “But you clearly relayed a position to Agent Carter referencing New York.”

“I was mistaken.” Steve shrugged.

“So you claim.” The Doctor nodded.

“In the heart of a very tense moment, facing certain death, I misread a map. So sue me.” He shrugged.

“Your attitude does not help these proceedings, Captain.” The Doctor admonished.

“These proceedings don’t help my attitude.” Steve snapped back.

Every meeting started with what was meant to be a benign test of Steve’s memory. And each time they conducted the test it would end in an inquiry as to why Steve’s memory wasn’t perfect regarding the last flight of the Valkyrie. Every. Single. Time. Apparently you had to properly report any crashed aircraft, or something, and Steve was the absolute worst for not being able to do so. Because he was crashing the plane.

“Listen, I’m doing my job.” Steve sighed. He rubbed his jaw, felt the ache from the punch he’d earned earlier from Bucky. His chest tightened slightly but it helped. He shrugged. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

The Doctor cocked a head to the side. “It’s an annual review.”

“I had my annual review three months ago.” Steve reminded him.

“This is a different one.” Steve shook his head and faced the large observation window.

“Fury, if you have a problem with my performance then I’d like you to say it to my face.”

The Doctor just stared at him. “Director Fury is not in attendance today.”

“Oh, really?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“If we could get back to the task at hand.” The Doctor motioned to his forms.

“I think the task at hand is why I’m being called in on a psych evaluation I’m not due for and being pressed on issues I thought we’d settled already.” Steve snapped.

“You are aware that the circumstances regarding your crash are a-”

“An on-going investigation.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”

So Fury wasn’t there. But that led to the question of who  _was_  behind the glass because somebody tapped on it three times in tight succession, leading Steve to believe that they weren’t happy with the direction this particular meeting was taking. Steve scowled at the table. Besides Fury, S.H.I.E.L.D. left him alone for the most part. No public appearances, Steve had been clear on that. The occasional mission with Strike Team. But Steve was mostly a free agent. Just one that S.H.I.E.L.D. bankrolled.

“I think we’re done here.” Steve told him. He stood and stomped from the room, ignoring protests.

He almost left entirely. If he continued straight down the hallway it led to the large walkway that would take him to the elevator bank. Steve took three steps in that direction before rethinking that approach and turning towards the observation room door. There was one, incredibly easy, way to find out who had decided Steve needed further evaluation. Steve reached the door in a few steps and yanked the door open with a single arm, snapping the lock in the process.

“Oh, yes.” Doctor Faustus stood holding a briefcase, grinning wildly. “He’s perfectly well balanced.”

Steve snarled. “I’m fine.”

“Steve.” Steve hadn’t even looked to the others in the room. Natasha. Maria Hill. Rumlow.

“Fury wasn’t here but his two best lackeys were.” Steve sneered at Natasha and Maria.

“The man has been getting grilled for an hour.” Rumlow shook his head. He shot Steve an apologetic look. “I think he’s right to be a little angry about it, personally.”

Steve nodded at him. “Thanks.”

“I don’t think we can just assume the best case here.” Doctor Faustus snapped.

“He says he’s fine.” Natasha gestured to him. Maria looked skeptical.

“He  _is_  fine.” Rumlow insisted. Again, he made a point of shooting Steve a supportive look and nodding.

Rumlow thought he was smooth but Steve got it. Rumlow wasn’t on his side. He just really wanted Steve to think that he was. He didn’t need to be so obvious about lying to him. It was laying it on just a little bit too thick. Steve wasn’t some nitwitted oaf with more brawn than brain. He sighed.

“Does anyone want to explain to me what  _exactly_  is going on?” Steve asked them.

“Doctor Faustus has submitted filings that your care has been neglected under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s tenure.” Maria explained. She motioned with a folder in her hands. “They’ve made a public petition that would allow the Department of Health direct oversight into your medical history and current medical records, effective immediately.” 

“What?” Steve made a face. Natasha looked sympathetic.

“This appointment was an assessment. And you failed it miserably.” Faustus shook her head sadly.

“No, I didn’t.” Steve shook his head emphatically. It had been an interrogation. A brutal one.

“It’s not your fault, dear.” Faustus insisted. “Too many people favor weapons over health. Like Stark.”

Steve scowled. “Stark is my current medical care-taker and I don’t see what that should change.”

“Steve.” Natasha looked worried. “Stark retired five months ago. He’s no longer working with S.H.I.E.L.D. or the Avengers in any official capacity. He’s not Iron Man. He’s not CEO of Stark Industries. He’s not overseeing your care anymore. He’s just Tony Stark.”

Maria looked at the paperwork and back at Steve. “Clearly there’s been some missteps here.”

“No.” Steve insisted. “There hasn’t.”

Doctor Faustus scowled at him. “When is the last time you saw Tony Stark?”

Steve tried to think. It hadn’t been in New York. The unrest still made Manhattan unsafe. Most business, like Stark Industries, had abandoned their headquarters there. Nor had it been in D.C. at Steve’s apartment. Their schedules had never lined up. Steve thought maybe it had been Paris. It had been cold. And dark. They’d met insanely early one morning in an empty café outside the train station. It had been a brief meeting solely to get a few updated samples for JARVIS to modify before sending to S.H.I.E.L.D. for review. But it couldn’t have been Paris. That was six months ago at least.

“A month.” Steve lied. “At the most. We have phone calls too. More frequently.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and corrected him. “As far as anyone can prove, it’s been at least four.”

"No." Steve tried to argue.

“You don’t have to lie for him.” Doctor Faustus put a gentle hand on Steve’s shoulder. He flinched away.

“Steve.”

“I’m fine.” He insisted. But he realized that he was shaking. Was he angry? Crying? He couldn’t tell. But he was having trouble focusing even though he knew that somebody was talking to him. Why had the world gone sideways?

“Somebody get Stark on the phone and get me some goddamn answers.” Maria snapped. “Now.”

Doctor Faustus cleared her throat. “I have my team on site. We could assist-”

“No.” Natasha answered at the same time that Steve shouted.

“No.” Steve shouted. It was louder than intended. “No. Just Tony. Call Tony.”

“I’m going to insist in my capacity as a S.H.I.E.L.D. official that he be quarantined for testing immediately.” Dr. Faustus was saying. She motioned for some anonymous guards to try and grab him. Steve shrugged them off easily.

"That's not covered by your petition." Maria argued. More guards came at Steve. He shoved them off.

"Are you saying you don't think it's in his best interest?" The Doctor pressed. Maria hesitated.

“We don’t have time.” Natasha was saying. And he knew it was a lie, but she told it easily.

“Make it.” The Doctor just flipped a piece of hair over her shoulder.

“The Director needs him ready f-”

“I don’t care.” The Doctor informed her haughtily. More guards tried to grab Steve and he didn’t have the wherewithal to fight them all. Natasha didn’t even try to help him this time. He went down hard.

* * *

They wouldn’t even let him go back to his apartment. Not until they’d given him a thorough check. And Steve was agitated so the nurses were all skittish and nervous around him. Nobody was speaking to him. Natasha had stomped away after he cursed at her and Maria hadn’t been far behind. Only Rumlow had stood between Faustus and Steve, facing the elderly woman with an overly dramatic scowl. It had been a performance but Steve had appreciated the moment to gather his thoughts and compose himself. He’d been so panicked that he’d overreacted. Overplayed his hand.

He thought about Natasha’s lie. The Director needed him to be ready. A lie. Which meant that Natasha was going to make sure the Director needed him for something. So the name of the game was going to be Delay at All Costs. Because eventually, he’d be needed for something. Maybe for real, or maybe for an errand Natasha had concocted. Once he’d realized that, Steve had just sat in the cold and scaring innocent healthcare staff. It wasn’t their fault and he would apologize once all of this was through. Which was why he was now scowling a young nurse with short red hair and a shaking hand.

“I’m not sure you want to do that.” Steve told her as she moved to stick a needle in his arm.

“Excuse me?” She stammered. Steve just smiled.

“I don’t think you want to do that.” Steve repeated, annunciating every word.

“Bu-B-But I have to.” The nurse stuttered. Steve gave her a pitying look. “I need your current sample.”

Steve shrugged. “Use Stark's.”

“Anomalies have been identified in that sample.” The nurse said simply. Steve just stared at her. She had one hand poised to start the draw, the tourniquet was set. But Steve had her shaking in her boots. There was no way that needle was going in his arm unless he told her it was okay.

“Can someone explain to me what’s going on?” The voice was Faustus. Steve swallowed.

“The blood draw you requested, ma’am.” The nurse explained. She looked guilty.

“It’s been two hours.” Doctor Faustus sounded indignant. “Are you incompetent?”

The nurse looked affronted. “He’s not been cooperating.” 

“I don’t like needles.” He explained, putting on a face of pure innocence. The Doctor’s scowl deepened and Steve knew she believed none of it. “I thought you said we could do the cheek swab?”

Faustus scowled at him. “We need more than that test will give us.”

“I thought you just needed a enough for a typing?” Steve questioned.

“Not entirely.” She folded her arms. “Your current state calls for a deeper analysis to ensure that you’re healthy enough to continue serving. We'd like to check for chemical imbalances. Don’t you want to keep your shield and uniform? You said yourself that it was all you had left.”

Steve tensed at the mention of chemical imbalances. Wasn't that what the websites had told Steve to look out for? A warning word used by people trying to illegally check the genetic makeup of demons- especially those claiming to be Nephilim. But he also watched her face. He saw the way Faustus had gone pinched an angry when threatening Steve's shield and uniform.

The manipulation was a low blow, and the both knew it, so Steve knew that she was desperate. She wanted his blood. Maybe for the formula. Maybe to expose his secret. Maybe for the exact reason she was saying. Outside of a direct order from Fury she didn’t gave the authority to demand it from him. Not even her, as she said “capacity as a S.H.I.E.L.D. official”. So her desperation meant that the request had gone to Fury and been denied. Steve just smirked at her. He was awful for taking joy in the look on her face when she realized he knew her ruse.

“I think I’ll take this up with the director.” He told her with a nod. And then he left.

* * *

Fury hadn't been in his office. Steve half expected that he'd hid when someone warned him that Steve was on a warpath. His secretary had looked a few degrees too smug when she'd told him that Fury wasn't in his office. And when he'd stomped past her, ignoring her outraged shriek, it was into an empty office. But Steve wouldn't put it past Fury to have secret means of getting to and leaving his office. The man didn't like to be cornered. 

He'd told himself he was going to wait. But then a short man in uniform had come rushing in, telling Steve he was needed in the hangar to assist the Strike Team. He smirked to himself. Natasha was a little late but nonetheless, helpful. Steve would've ignored an order like that- too easy for him to be cornered again. His nerves felt jittery. Maybe from the medication, but Steve figured the events of the morning played in to it. It felt like he had a target on his back and a need to keep looking over his shoulder. He only complied because he figured he owed Natasha both an apology and a thank you.

And then Natasha had followed up the order with with a text- emoji and all- Steve felt compelled to do as he was told. The mission was real, apparently. He planned his witty retort the whole way down. He’d make a joke about it, then thank her for helping him. But then he’d remembered the appointment happened because she had scheduled it. Natasha had been in the observation room right next to Doctor Faustus. She'd betrayed him. Not that he expected her loyalty, but he'd assumed that he had her respect. But when he saw her waiting in the hanger, smirking at him as if everything was normal, he deflated.

"I don't really have anything to say to you." He called as he approached.

“Did you really think we’d let her get her way?” Natasha's smirk slipped into a frown.

“You seemed pretty happy to.” Steve snapped back. He walked past her without slowing down.

Steve could practically hear the way she rolled her eyes at the petty move. She snaked her bag off the ground and followed him anyways, without another word. He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, and truth be told he wasn’t over the fact that she’d been in that room on the other side of the glass. Instead of fighting with, because they both needed to focus, Steve didn’t chose to sit by himself and instead slid into a seat next to Sid- one of Rumlow’s guys.

“Cap.” He smiled widely. “Rumlow didn’t think you’d be joining us.”

Steve grinned. “You know nothing could keep me away from the fun.”

“You have a sick sense of fun.” Sid, one of Strike Team, laughed at him. Steve laughed with him. 

“You know where we’re going?” Steve asked. Sid shook his head. He didn’t look bothered.

“You know how Fury likes things.” Sid pointed out. He gave Steve a look that conveyed a sort of bemused annoyance. And he had to agree. Fury not letting them know where they were going right off was a power move. Not like they all didn’t have the highest clearances. Not like they all didn’t pass every test S.H.I.E.L.D. had to give them (Steve’s health screening ignored). Steve felt anger tense his shoulders.

“Cleaning up another of his messes.” Someone in the row in front of them muttered. “Just like last time.”

“Last time?” Steve was confused. “We were disarming a terrorist militia.”

Sid snorted. “And how do you think they got armed in the first place?”

“We play both sides of the economy in the war-market, kid.” The man in front of them laughed. “You stay in this business long enough and you realize the only messes you’re ever cleaning up are the ones that you helped make in the first place.”

“Glorified janitors.” Sid agreed. He and Davis bumped fists above the seat.

Steve frowned. “Arguably, I’ve been in this business longer than both of you.”

“True.” Sid nodded. “How long you been in, Davis?”

The man he’d called Davis snorted. “Long enough not to answer that.”

“Combined.” Steve added. Both men laughed.

“Also, true.” Sid nodded.

“It’s all a never ending cycle. We create our own economy. Our own enemies.” Daviscontinued to ramble. Steve just let him. Sid snorted at the commentary.

“We’re fighting for something.” Steve insisted. “At least sometimes. Terrorists. Aliens. It happens.”

Sid snorted. “You think we’d have been in this War on Terror without the Gulf War?”

“You think there’s have been a Gulf War without the Cold War?” Davis pulled out what looked like a Zippo lighter and flicked it open and closed. Steve could just barely see it between the seats. “I’m not saying we don’t get to do some of the hoo-rah bullshit like they let you do back in the day, Cap’n. Just that sometimes that hoo-rah bullshit is actually just plain bullshit and you’re just cold and dirty and tired because some old white guys in Washington wanted a few more dollars in their pocket.”

“Christ, Davis.” Sid whistled. But Steve couldn’t see where he was wrong.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I guess you can only serve for so long before you see that.”

Sid looked horrified. Captain America, he reminded himself. Steve just gave him a reassuring shrug.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t serve anyway.” He amended.

"It don't?" Sid gave Steve a curious look, more amused than genuine curiosity. "Why not?"

"Because sometimes it's the hoo-rah bullshit." Steve said with a shrug. Davis laughed.

"Hoo-rah, Captain." He laughed.

Steve let himself relax. He'd never actually spoken much to the Strike Team guys besides Rumlow. They were tight knit and somewhat closed off. Bonded by years of tough service and difficult missions that came long before Steve waltzed in. So, maybe the sick feeling in his stomach was unease caused by not knowing these men. But something in the way Davis and Sid had looked at each other when Steve pretended to fall asleep made him queasy.

* * *

It was a shitshow. Steve couldn’t keep himself focused. There were shots coming from all directions and Steve couldn’t keep himself low enough or covered enough to stop the rounds from coming. It was like they were aiming for him. Belatedly, he remembered the shield and the uniform and symbolism and realized that they had probably  _definitely_ been aiming for him specifically. And he didn’t take it that personally, tactically Steve was the person who’s death would make the biggest impact on the team.

Which, he admonished himself, was incredibly self-centered of him to think.

And this was also not the time to be thinking about it. A shot hit the wall behind Steve’s head and sent brick flying. Steve let out a short scream that had the rest of the men staring at him. He cleared his throat and kept his mouth in a straight line, glaring daggers at anyone who looked like they might dare to say something about it. Strike Team didn’t appear to have taken any hits yet- they’d come in quiet via parachute so their drop plane hadn’t needed to fall within the range of the enemies’ firepower. But as they encroached further into the dense forest, they’d been steadily outnumbered by gunmen hiding in the brush that they couldn’t see.

“We need to clear that ridge and get to the outbuilding over here.” Rumlow gestured to a point on a map. Their original destination had been bombed into non-existence. “Fury has further orders waiting for us there.”

Steve frowned. He’d been told they were grabbing some hostages and running.

“Don’t we have people to grab?” He asked Rumlow. Rumlow was busy packing down his gear to move.

“Who do you think was in the first building?” Rumlow shot back. He rolled his eyes as if disappointed.

“They were?” Steve looked to Natasha, who only nodded once.

“Sometimes that’s the mission.” She said with a cool shrug. Steve swallowed.

He was overwhelmed with emotion and knew that it was wrong. Off. He’d been emotional since they’d pulled him in to the Triskellion for that appointment. And all he could think, really the only explanation, was that he messed up his dose. Maybe skipped one? Or doubled the count? Suddenly he couldn’t think to remember exactly when and what he’d taken it at all.

“Steve?” Natasha was yanking on his arm. Steve’s mind snapped sharp.

“I’m fine.” He said automatically. And he remembered. It had been before he left. Measured impeccably three times before administering. “I’m just taking a minute to be human.”

She cast a look around before shooting him a look. “Wasn’t aware that was a thing you did anymore.”

“I know you don’t care about people, Romanov, but I do. Always have. And good men died today.”

“They were selling S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence to Turkish operatives working for the Russian Government.” Natasha explained with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. “So, maybe save your mourning for the plane ride back? we’ve got some good men that are still alive and in need of some cover fire, if you’ve got a minute.”

Steve swallowed. They hadn’t mentioned that in the briefing. Just mentioned S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists.

“Let’s get a move on.” Someone called over the radio. Steve just took off, leaving Natasha behind.

They were following spent shells and casing behind Strike Team towards the outbuilding. Steve didn’t feel like talking to Natasha. Not only did he feel stupid for not knowing the truth of the situation, he hated that he’d let his emotion hold him back.

The outbuilding was fifteen feet ahead of them when chaos exploded around them.

* * *

 

Steve fell into his bed back in D.C. and yanked the covers up to his eyebrows. He wanted the muffled sounds and complete blackness. He wanted the buffer between himself and the rest of the world. His skin felt electric to the touch. Steve ran a finger down his arm and felt chills run down his spine as his whole body tensed. Like he was on the edge of tears. Steve swallowed back a choking sob and tried to force some calming breaths. It was like his whole body was a live wire, surging and barely contained power threatening to burn him alive. Emotion kept bubbling over, uncontainable.

He was being too dramatic.

He should take something to go to sleep.

“Acetovaxidol is pretty much methamphetamine for Demons.” The voice was quiet. Tentative. Bucky.

“What’re you doing?” Steve mumbled. He sat up, ignoring the jolt in his chest. Bucky was standing in the doorway instead of leaning against the side wall of his bedroom. 

“It’s dangerous.” He continued. He sounded confident. He was so…present. Steve couldn’t look away.

“So am I.” Steve pointed out.

“Not like that. You shouldn’t take it.” Bucky said it as if it was simple. As if there were no other factors.

“You’re not real.” Steve pressed his face into the pillows. “You’re not real and you need to leave.”

“I don’t think they need me right now.” Bucky sat in his usual spot. Tilting his head to the side. 

“Then why are you here?” Steve asked him.

“Because I saw you from the other place. And I followed.” Bucky shrugged. He sounded lucid. When Steve looked him in the eyes, he saw someone staring back at him. Could a delusion replicate that? For the moment, it lessened the searing energy urging Steve to jump out a window. So he laid back down, facing Bucky so that they could talk.

“When did you see me?” Steve asked him.

“You had the box.” Bucky shrugged. “And you were screaming.”

Steve assumed this was the Tesseract. “You were on the roof?”

“No. I was in the other place.”

“What’s the other place?” Steve asked.

“Tartarus.” Bucky nodded twice. He was rubbing his hands together in a circular motion that Steve found fascinating to watch. When Bucky noticed him staring, he laughed. Steve forced himself to look away. “I can’t believe you’re getting high, Steve.”

Steve frowned. “I’m trying to be human. I’m Captain America still.”

And then, after a beat.

“Wait, you remember me now? You know who I am?” Steve felt it catch in his chest.

Maybe it was the medication working some kind of miracle. Maybe it was his body cutting him an actual break for once. This was the kindest delusion Steve had yet. Bucky met Steve’s amazed gaze and started to laugh. 

“Until the end of the line.” Bucky shrugged. “Right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	11. 2-2-14

<Embedded Image>  
Image © Getty Images 2013 map of Manhattan extending up to 118th street.    
Image description:   
Map of Manhattan showing the number of reported incidents in the past eighteen months of conflict between the largest neighborhoods of American citizens and the residents of the former Manhattan Demon Only Zones. Over 150 incidents, mostly involving violence, have been reported. At least seven humans have been hospitalized due to injuries sustained. No official tallies of demon casualties have been reported. 

**Ongoing Riots Threaten the Existence of Manhattan D.O.Z.**    
By James Olson   
January 13, 2014

Beginning in June of 2012 there has been an extensive movement to rebuild the destruction the followed the Chitauri invasion and resulting Battle of New York. Several thousand were displaced as the destruction left a dozen of blocks of buildings either entirely destroyed or structurally unstable. It was decided by the local government that local D.O.Z.’s would be closed to allow the relocation of citizens left homeless by the devastation. This decision was incredibly divisive at the time as money citizens were not comfortable with relocating to what one state senator referred to as “slums”.  

A surprise resistance from the demon population of the D.O.Z. has made life difficult for those Housing Authority officers who have worked for the past eighteen months to have them removed from the property. As they have no legal rights to the residences, and no documentation of human sponsorship, no court has agreed to hear their case. However, force has also not yet been authorized and no military action has been taken to restore the property to the city of Manhattan. Many have recently been campaigning for an action of some kind to be taken. 

Magneto, the demonkind rights activist, has been rallying demons across the nation to support the cause which has recently fallen in to a stalemate. The D.O.Z. initially gained a lot of ground and expanded to encompass over one hundred blocks on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. They have maintained that boundary since December 2, 2012 and have maintained a complete blockade of 110th to 86th street. 

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Shared (1856)   
Likes (364.5K)   
Comments (2.5k) 

**< xNYCxSTRONGx251x>**   
I have been homeless for eighteen months. A year and a half. I had to drop out of school. I lost my job because the building was demolished. Everything was taken from me that day and I don't even get the dignity of a bed to sleep in because these pieces of TRASH think they get to flout the laws of this country?! That's not how it works! The laws are laws! 

**<** **AbadonDidNothingWrong** **>**  
Which is it? Were you in school or did you lose your job? Crazy how your story reads as made up and your IP puts you in France.

**<** **SuperboyandtheInvisibleGirl** **>**    
HAHA Owned. 

**<** **AbadonDidNothingWrong** **>**    
Do people say owned anymore? 

**<** **SuperboyandtheInvisibleGirl** **>**    
I do. 

**< xNYCxSTRONGx251x>**   
YOU DON'T KNOW MY STORY. I was in college with a part time job at a Subway. It's NOT a LIE. And IDK why it says that I'm in France. I'm not. We're in Queens. 

**<** **SuperboyandtheInvisibleGirl** **>**    
You mean the D.O.Z. they closed in Queens to move people in to it? 

**<** **AbadonDidNothingWrong** **>**    
Looks like you got your bed after all, Princess.

**< xNYCxSTRONGx251x>**   
NO. We weren't given a space in those Slums. We found a couch to sleep on. My family still doesn't have a home. We're without most of our posessions because they couldn't be salvaged. We have nothing left. 

**<** **AbadonDidNothingWrong** **>**    
Sure, sweetheart. Just get to the part where you ask us for money so we can laugh at you. 

**< xNYCxSTRONGx251x>**   
Fuck off. 

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  2. Stark Makes First Public Appearance Since Announcing Retirement as Iron Man! 
  3. The Missing Avengers? Clint Barton, “Thor”, Dr. Bruce Banner Have Not Been Seen in Months! 
  4. Magneto to Make Statement to Congress From Prison to Please for “Nephilim” Rights. 
  5. Roxon Conspiracy Exposed! What Did Ellis Know and When? 
  6. Possible Expansion the Churchill Laws Announced and Immediately Slammed By U.N. Council. 



Here For the Mayhem Now @RoxProphecy   
@ImperiousRex Are you here?   
2:12 AM – 2 February 2014 

sanguini confidimus @ImperiousRex  
@RoxProphecy Yes   
2:42 AM – 2 February 2014 

Here For the Mayhem Now @RoxProphecy   
@ImperiousRex I need you to check your messages. Urgently.   
2:43 AM – 2 February 2014 

sanguini confidimus @ImperiousRex  
@RoxProphecy  well, fuck   
2:45 AM – 2 February 2014

sanguini confidimus @ImperiousRex  
@RoxProphecy I’m on my way to New York.   
2:46 AM – 2 February 2014 

thornevelyn reblogged maryellenspencer:   


> NOBODY REPLY TO IMPERIOUSR-X. BLOCK ON SIGHT.   
> 
>
>> They’re on the rampage again now. Hating someone for thinking people deserve equality. There is nothing wrong with supporting demon rights. GROW UP, TUMBLR.   
> 
>>
>>> I know who I’m blocking. And it’s not @ImperiousRex   
> 

_#demonsrights #demonology #lieutenantamerica_  
 **1,236,056 notes**  

capsrightbicep:   


> I haven’t seen pictures of Steven Rogers on my dash in over a week and frankly I’m demanding apologies from all of you. Right. Now. 

  
_#Captain America #Steve #Steve Rogers #Avengers_    
 **206,061 notes**

imperiousrex reblogged maryellenspencer:   


> I’m not looking for “Demon Kind Pride!!!1!11!” right now, ok? I’m looking for help. You guys. I’m starting to grow more and it’s really not okay. I hate it and it hurts. I’ve been raised by my mom in a D.O.Z. in Houston but my dad’s human.   
> 
>
>> Welcome to the very shitty Island of Misfit Half-Breeds.   
> 
>>
>>> There’s something we know of that can help. I’ll PM you. 

  
 _#demonsrights #demonology #nephilim_  
 **16 notes**

 **NEW DRUG AT THE CENTER OF PORPORTED "NEPHILIM" HOAX**    
By: James Olson   
April 3, 2014 

Officials all putting out a warning of a new drug craze sweeping through large chunks of the nation’s metropolitan D.O.Z.’s and leaving many hospitalized. The cost of the public health crises is spiraling as local community shelters have felt the brunt of the impact. Acetovaxidol has been confiscated in at least a dozen cities, with quantities ranging from less than an ounce to multiple kilos. At this time no humans have been injured but officials are warning everyone to maintain a high level of caution in all demon interactions.  

The purpose of this drug appears to be its ability to mask a Demon's true nature. None of the demon users arrested thus far were considered high-risk individuals but most have now been pegged potential human infiltrators, having made surgical modifications to their body to allow themselves to pass as human temporarily. Long term use appears to restrict growth, even causing atrophy in some cases. The more dangerous side effects that have presented include a psychotic, delusional state that has typically ended in extreme violence. Millions of dollars in damages in Chicago, both to City and private property have already been reported. 


	12. (You Gotta) Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr) for CapRBB2018

Steve woke up reluctantly, facing the new day with a level of disdain and derision he usually reserved for conversations with Fury. He groaned before he even opened his eyes and considered just…never doing that. He hadn’t even seen light but knew that it could only make the searing pain and thunderous pounding in his head more extreme. It might have been a few decades since he’d had one, but if Steve didn’t know any better he’d call it a hangover. A bad one. He fumbled blindly for a pillow and pressed it over his head. At least if it got too much worse, he’d be able to suffocate himself. And until then, blessed darkness. 

“Are you here?” Steve asked, words muffled by the pillow.

Silence.

So, that was a no.

“Buck?” He said, a little louder. Nothing. He braved the bright morning light and lifted the pillow.

He was alone.

Steve didn’t know why he was disappointed. Or surprised. Bucky was never there in the morning. Where was it he said that he went? Tartarus? Steve vaguely remembered the name from Sunday school and figured that his Catholic education was filling in the blanks for his imagination. 

With the light already burning his eyeballs, Steve forced himself to get up and start the day. He didn’t get to be lazy just because he felt like it. He made his way to the kitchen, switching on the coffee pot and reaching in to the fridge for some breakfast. Nothing fancy, just some fruit and yogurt that he thought might help to settle his stomach. 

While the coffee brewed, Steve went to the hiding place in his record player and removed one of the two remaining vials, draining half of it in a single unmeasured swig. Moments like this did not call for discretion or perfection, just results. And the moment the sour taste hit his tongue, Steve felt the pain receding from his head. He felt relief. It soothed the rough edges of his morning and cleared the cobwebs from his brain. Whatever had caused him to feel off wasn’t the meds. It was the adrenaline, probably. Stress. He leaned against the wall for a moment to enjoy the peace.

Checking the time on his stove, Steve grabbed the thin laptop he’d purchased and went to the messaging program he’d installed. His contact, someone with a generic username that changed every week, was his contact for the serum. Steve had found him on a forum for demons that he didn’t frequent, per se, but had followed for a week or so while trying to learn about himself.

Or, at least, if there was anything else like him out there.

**I’m running low. Schedule a drop?**

_Waiting on a shipment. It will be a few days._

Steve thought of the single vial left in his hiding spot and the half a vial sitting on the counter.

**Ok. But sooner would be better. I’ll make it work.**

_Three days. It’ll be in the usual spot._

_Remember to pace yourself. Follow the schedule I gave you._

**I am.**

Steve went to close the messaging app. He had been following the instructions for the most part. But there had been once or twice where he’d had to modify it slightly- taking one dose a little early because they were about to head out on a mission or taking two when he’d felt particularly rough. And he'd found that taking a little more that he'd been told actually helped when he was overly stressed. Steve was careful enough that he didn’t think it was that big of an issue to be a little bit flexible.

With the laptop closed, Steve felt isolated. His apartment felt too open and isolated. Like he was in a bubble separated from the rest of the world. So he opened it back up so that he could feel like there was room for him to breathe. He just didn’t want to feel alone anymore. Thinking back the last two years, Steve was hit by the sudden realization that he had made zero friends. He’d made zero connections.

Natasha was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent first and a human being second.

Tony was covering for him out of guilt. Also retired and not returning Steve’s phone calls.

Thor hadn’t been seen on Earth since the Battle of New York.

Fury was Fury and Steve would rather not address the desperation that made him even consider listing him as a friend.

Maria Hill talked to him whenever he went to the Triskellion. Usually about business but, and Steve insisted to himself that this counted, she also checked in with him about the apartment and how he was doing on his own. He nodded to himself a few times. He’d count her. She was invested in his wellbeing outside of Captain America.

He remembered seeing her in the room with Doctor Faustus and frowned.

Maybe he was wrong.

Maybe his only friend in the 21st really was the delusional visions he had of his dead best friend.

Steve heard the coffee machine beep and moved to pour himself a cup. He didn’t need to be focusing on who he was outside of Captain America. He was doing this for Captain America. That legacy. Steve took a sip, ignoring the way it scalded his tongue. He had a duty to his uniform and to his country that mattered more than whether or not he was making friends along the way. There was nothing in friendship that was going to help him be a better Captain America.

He decided to take his foul mood down to the gym and burn some of it off with exercise. S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t notified him of any appointments, so maybe Steve was going to have the day off. And he didn’t need to show up at the Triskelion unannounced. He hadn’t been back since the appointment with Doctor Faustus and wasn’t entirely sure how welcome he would be. Maybe he was on less of a vacation and more of a time out. He hadn't gone this long without something to do in years.

The realization that he was being benched as Captain America set him on edge, and the happy glow of the medication dissipated in a snap. It was like cold ice water down his spine. They hadn’t needed him for a week or so before, he tried to remind himself. There was nothing about the past few days that meant he was being shut out of S.H.I.E.L.D. operations at all.

There was a series of loud beeps from where his laptop sat open on the coffee table. Steve had forgotten that he left it open and wondered what notification he was getting. It was a different beep than the one he got when the battery was dying. He saw the messaging app icon at the bottom of the screen with a bubble notification on top of it. Someone had messaged him. Nobody had that messaging account- Steve hadn’t wanted to mix his personal life with the online username that was asking for drugs over the internet. He might be new to the whole online black market, but he wasn’t stupid.

**ImperiousRex**  
_I’ve traced your IP and know who you are_

Steve stared at the words. He knew what they were individually but his mind refused to comprehend the full sentence. Steve used a VPN to hide his IP when he went online. Always. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t know about the laptop and Steve didn’t want them tracing it.

**TheShadow1942**  
_I really don’t think you do_

**ImperiousRex**  
_I really don’t think you want me to prove it, Captain_

Steve’s breath caught in his throat. It was obviously a bluff. Nobody knew Steve even used the internet on a regular basis, much less was a fan of this particular messaging app. His second thought was that his contact for the serum had either sold him out or was screwing with him. But that man didn’t know who Steve was either. He supposed his pick-up could’ve been watched. But Steve thought he had been careful enough not to be observed. And regardless of any of that, there was no way this person could prove that it was Steve on the other end of the computer. Two could play the bluffing game.

**TheShadow1942**  
_You’re not making any sense_

**ImperiousRex**  
_Sure thing. I’m watching your apartment right now. Did you know you were under surveillance?_

**TheShadow1942**  
_Well, you just told me you were watching my apartment._

**ImperiousRex**  
_You have no idea what chain of events has already been started. This is the calm before the storm._

**TheShadow1942**  
_You’re being a bit dramatic._

**ImperiousRex**  
_And you’re being naïve. Is it on purpose?_

**TheShadow1942**  
_Consider me an optimist._

**ImperiousRex**  
_It’s optimistic to assume that I’m the only one watching you._

**TheShadow1942**  
_I’m not assuming anything. You’re not even talking to the right person._

**ImperiousRex**  
_Tell Agent Romanov that I say hello._

Steve stared at the screen. It was disconcerting to the point that he actually glanced around his living room, looking to see if Natasha had walked in without Steve noticing. But he was still alone, sitting on the couch with his now cold cup of coffee and a stomach full of dread. Instead of admitting to whoever this was that he was freaked, Steve forced himself to make a casual response.

**TheShadow1942**  
_Nobody by that name here._

**ImperiousRex**  
_She will be. Who else do you think S.H.I.E.L.D. would assign to watch you?_

**ImperiousRex**  
_Enjoy your optimism while it lasts, Captain._

* * *

Within fifteen minutes of being in the gym, Steve thought he might have broken a finger. But he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t slow down. There was a tempo in his brain and he was pushing himself to keep up with it. Something loud and obnoxious thumped over the speakers. It’s not because Steve likes the incessant noise, but because apparently some residents complained at the noise Steve created when working out. Not the volume, but the concern that he was in pain. So Steve started playing music to mask it. He was pretty sure that wasn’t what Maria had been asking him to do, but Steve figured it solved the problem without slowing him down. That was a victory in his book. 

He moved from the punching bag to the bench press. Technically, he should have a spotter. But nobody else would have been able to lift the amount of weight Steve was pushing anyways so it would have been a futile effort. Another person in the room would have just slowed him down.

Steve forced himself through ten reps of fifteen at a punishing weight. His muscles in his arm screamed angrily at him. Steve shook them out and gave himself a thirty second reprieve before he’d start again. He bobbed his head up and down the thump of the music and wiped some of the sweat from his face with a thin rag. 

He’d been right about the exercise helping. Even with the messages from Imperious Rex that Steve found sprawled across various websites that appeared to all belong to the same person- adding to Steve’s stress, Steve felt more relaxed than he had when he woke up. The rolling pain in his stomach reminded him that he’d forgotten to eat but at least that was an easily resolved problem.  Just as soon as he finished up down here in the gym.

_I know who you are_.

Steve powered through a twinging pain in his shoulder. He grunted from the effort but kept pushing.

_I’m watching your apartment._

Steve gave up on the bench press and moved back to the punching bag.

_You’re being naïve._

Steve sent a single punch into the punching bag and sailed backwards off of it’s chain and directly into the floor to ceiling mirror a full five feet behind it. The mirror shattered on impact and sent shards of glass scattering throughout the room. Steve sighed to himself. That was the rest of his workout time, wasted. He muttered angrily about reinforcing the punching bags better while sweeping up with the broom from the closet. It wasn’t perfect, but Steve didn’t walk through the room barefoot anyways.

Hanging up the next bag proved more difficult, since the chain hadn’t been ripped from the bag. It had actually yanked the entire assembly out of the ceiling, revealing a huge chunk of the beam that had been ripped out with the bracket for the bag. Steve groaned. That meant having to have actual repairmen come in to look at the damage. He wondered if he could get away without telling anyone and letting it go unrepaired.

Then he had visions of the floor giving way to the apartment above him and knew it needed to be fixed.

“You look deep in thought.” A voice interrupted. Steve whipped around.

“Natasha.” He had to pick his jaw up off the floor. She gave him a weird look. Steve couldn’t believe she was there. Eventually, his mind returned to the present and he managed to clumsily cover for himself. “I was just surveying the damage was here. I had a bit of an accident.”

Natasha looked up at the beam with the grapefruit sized missing chunk and whistled. “You sure did.”

“You have a reason for stopping by?” Steve asked her. Natasha shrugged.

“Checking in.” She said simply. 

“I haven’t been required to check in for almost a year and a half.” Steve reminded her.

“Not about a requirement.” Natasha insisted. “Just with everything going on, I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. And I wanted to let you know that Fury has ordered Doctor Faustus to keep her distance.”

Steve crossed his arms. “Why?”

“Because of the appointment she ended with trying to get your genetic profile.” Natasha reminded him.

"I've heard that before." Steve rolled his eyes.

"Well, it's true this time." She promised him.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. needs to protect the intellectual property that makes me Captain America.” Steve nodded.

“That.” Natasha admitted with a nod. “And Fury just really doesn’t like her.”

Steve just stared at her. He didn’t know what to make of the fact that she’d showed up, after a four day absence, right on the exact day that he was told she was going to check in on him. Considering the possibilities made Steve’s head hurt. So instead, Steve went back to working out. He made it as far as the bench press before Natasha put herself in front of him.

At first she didn’t say anything, so Steve kept working and adjusted the weights on the bar. He added about ten pounds to each side. It would be a personal record if he managed to do his usual ten reps. Natasha just watched him as he moved and didn’t say anything.

“You know you’re allowed to just be human, right?” She asked him.

“I’m not, though.” He reminded her. She knew that. She’d been in New York.

“You don’t have to be this gung-ho soldier man, is what I mean. You don’t have to be Captain America all the time.” Natasha cocked her head to the side. “I know Fury mentioned a plan to get you back in to the world. I know you have your little black book. But have you, really?”

Despite the entire conversation happening in his head this morning, Steve’s blood ran cold as he remembered his own thought process that morning and wondering who he had outside of Captain America. It wasn’t healthy thinking for him. Captain America was his responsibility. It was his legacy. For all intents and purposes, he  _was_  Captain America and it came before everything else to him. 

“I’ve been keeping up with the black books.” Steve reported. And he had. He was on number 15.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Natasha shook her head.

“Then try saying what you mean.” Steve snapped. He stopped and shook his head. “Sorry.”

Natasha motioned for him to put the bar back up on to the rack. “I mean that you seem lonely.”

“I’m not.” Steve lied.

“I mean that I haven’t seen you do anything but work for S.H.I.E.L.D. in the two years that I’ve known you.” Natasha shook her head. “I know you know that we’re worried.”

Steve nodded. “I do.”

“And we both know that I have a reason to.” Natasha said pointedly.

“That sounded threatening.” Steve sat up and crossed his arms.

“It’s not a threat.” Natasha insisted. 

“But it is.” Steve stood. “You want me to seem more human. And to you that means having some performative relationship with some other humans, preferably female, that I would then have to lie to because I can’t trust anyone else with my secrets. That means forcing myself in to social situations that I have no context for because, frankly, the 21st century makes no fucking sense.”

Steve paused to take a breath. Natasha used the pause. “I mean you need to cut yourself some slack.”

“I have plenty of slack.” Steve crossed his arms.

Natasha said nothing and crossed her arms, staring him down. “You’re lying to us both.”

“I’m focused right now. S.H.I.E.L.D. needs Captain America to be the best.”

“No offense, but S.H.I.E.L.D. survived thirty some odd years without you.” Natasha pointed out. “At least if you’re counting all the fake-you’s that got put in the uniform after you.”

Steve snorted. “Never did get mad at Fury for that one.”

“You have so many things to be mad at him for, I imagine it’s hard to keep track.” Natasha grinned.

“The man’s exhausting.” Steve agreed.

“He means well.” Natasha shrugged. There was a short pause before she continued. “You’re not going to like this, but Fury doesn’t want you working with Strike Team right now. He’s got something cooking and until he’s ready for us to execute it, we both need to stay close and stay ready. Whatever this is, it’s big.”

Steve nodded. “Noted, I guess.”

“You’re more than just Captain America, you know.” Natasha said gently. Steve saw that she was working an angle of same kind. Her initial approach hadn’t worked so she was working her way back around to it. Steve sighed.

“Just tell me what Fury wants.” He told her. Natasha straightened slightly. He groaned. “Another date?”

Natasha shrugged. “The last one played well in the media. He wants the distraction.”

“At least you’re admitted that it’s a ploy this time.” Steve shook his head.

“You can pick whoever you want for it this time.” Natasha explained. “The hope was that you’d have some kind of preference and agree to it on your own.”

Steve grinned. “Fury didn’t tell you that you could tell me, did he?”

“Fury trusts me to get the results that he wants.” Natasha hedged.

“And if I say no?” He asked her. Natasha shrugged.

“Then we go to plan B.”

“I’m not going to like plan B and more than plan A, am I?” He asked her. She laughed.

“Definitely not.” She admitted.

Her phone beeped. She looked down at it, lifted a single eyebrow, and then pointed the screen towards Steve for him to read it. It was coordinates for a pick up and both her name and Steve’s. He looked between it and her a few times, confused.

“I thought we were grounded?” He asked her. Her phone beeped a second time.

“It’s from Fury himself.” She told him, shrugging. “And apparently we’ve been personally requested.”

* * *

“We appreciate the help.” The agent was saying. “That was a sticky one.”

Natasha just nodded. “We don’t usually do exit plans. But we’re happy to help.”

The younger girl- a trainee agent according to her supervisor- practically did an excited little happy dance at Natasha saying those words. Her supervisor shot her a look and motioned for her to bring it down. She did so, but barely. She was still going back and forth between gawking at Steve and shooting Natasha looks of absolute adoration. 

“She must be really new.” Steve said to her supervisor.

“Very.” He admitted.

“More of a consultant.” The girl cut in, smiling widely. She went to continue but her partner stopped her.

“The grown-ups are talking.” Her supervisor teased. The girl laughed and completely ignored him.

“You worked with Coulson?” Steve asked him. The agent had mentioned it in passing. “I met him in New York. And I was so sorry for his loss. He was a great man. He was one of the first people I met after waking up.”

The man smiled. “He was a big fan of yours too.”

Steve laughed to himself and looked down at the ground. “Yeah, I remember that he was.”

“He’d totally be freaking out if he knew that we were here right now.” The trainee agent cut in. It was several degrees to excited for the conversation. It was only a few south of a squeal. She put a hand over her mouth to contain a giggle. “I’m sorry.”

“She’s just easily starstruck.” Her supervisor said casually, but the look her gave her was sharp.

“It’s okay.” Steve nodded. Natasha cast a look over her shoulder and smirked at him.

“I’m Skye, by the way.” She extended a hand for Steve to take. He did so somewhat reluctantly.

“Ward.” Her supervisor nodded. No handshake necessary. They exchanged nods.

Steve didn’t see why they were called in for this one. It was a mission any extraction team could have flown. Steve rolled his shoulders and moved to sit on one of the side benches until the landed back in Washington. Ward and Skye settled in to the seats next to his. He sighed. “So what are you guys working that you needed to be pulled out of Central America?” 

“Bad lead.” Ward said with a scowl.

“Not a bad lead. Just a dead one.” Skye corrected. “We were following a paper trail for a web user. He’s been hosting on foreign servers so we can’t access his files directly. And Imperious Rex is not using a standard VPN, he’s using multiple at different relay points that bounc-”

“What?” Steve just stared at her.

“You need me to slow it down?” She asked him. Steve didn’t elaborate why, but he nodded.

“Please.” Steve admitted.

“Imperious Rex- the guy we’ve been tracking- he’s got bases everywhere. And then he’s not just relaying his signal through every single one of them, he’s also scrambling it with random signals he’s got set up around the world. So, we can’t just go to directly where the signal comes from. Because while we can see where the signal is bouncing, that’s not where he is. And as soon as we hit one, then he knows that we’re on to him and he goes to ground completely. At that point, we’ll have no chance of catching him.” 

She’s sped through the explanation so quickly that Steve was tempted to ask her to repeat it. But instead, he focused on the name. It had sent chills down his spine.

“Imperious Rex?” He asked her. When she nodded, it made his stomach feel ill.

“Yes. He’s part of the movement that’s maintained the unrest in Manhattan.”

“You should sound less proud.” Ward told her.

“The fifteen year old anarchist in my really is, though.” Skye admitted.

“He’s a demon?” Steve pressed. Their information was too sparse for him to use.

“He is. Well, according to the government. But he identifies as a Nephilim.” She explained. 

“Neither human nor demon.” Steve nodded. “I’ve heard the term.”

Sky shrugged. “It’s a hot button topic right now. But he’s  _the_  Nephilim. With Magneto in prison, Imperious Rex is the only thing tying that resistance together.”

“We find him, we take the whole thing down.” Ward agreed.

“And you know who he is?” Steve asked them. “Why not just put his face everywhere?”

Skye snorted. “And make him a hero? Do you know how many places he’d have to hide?”

“We know who he is. We know his accomplices. We’re just working on tracking them all down.”

“If he knows we’re coming, he falls in a hole and doesn’t surface for years.” Skye shook her head.

Steve just leaned back and sagged into his seat slightly. Ward and Skye were arguing about different approaches. But Steve focused on his hands. He’d been clenching and unclenching them to keep himself focused. Because one thing had become disturbingly clear- he was absolutely not on this plane by accident. There was such a thing as coincidence, but Steve only believed that when Nick Fury wasn’t involved. 

The only answer was S.H.I.E.L.D. knew about his laptop. And they knew that Steve had been contacted by Imperious Rex. Why else would Fury send either Steve or Natasha on a mission like this? Steve was being spoon fed the information he wanted and Natasha was monitoring his response. Steve swallowed and leaned as if he was going to drift off to sleep. He needed to think.

The first thing he was going to have to do was toss the laptop entirely. If they could track it, then it was pointless. He’d wanted a means of maintaining privacy. Mentally, he thought back to his previous searches. He’d never been so stupid as to google “what to do if you’re secretly a demon” but he’d frequented a lot of demon forums and informational pages. But he needed to make sure he hadn’t blown his cover with S.H.I.E.L.D. entirely. Which meant it was time to talk to Fury.

* * *

He couldn’t go back to his apartment. Even after the mission he delayed leaving the hangar, even showering in the locker rooms there. Steve didn’t feel like it was safe. He felt invaded. So instead, he waited until it was late enough that the hangar would be mostly empty, and then he wandered outside on his own. The pedestrian walkway from the Triskelion to the mainland landed in Alexandria- a neighborhood called Rosslyn- and Steve hadn’t ever explored it much. The end of the bridge hit a parking lot and the buildings that surrounded it were residential or hotels. A few office buildings. Many of the buildings were high-rises, even more than what Steve was used to on the D.C. side of the water.

There was a small park a few blocks in that had a couple restaurants- mainly chains that Steve recognized already and didn’t particularly care for. But in one, a pizza joint, Steve saw nobody but the young girl behind the counter, staring at a glowing cell phone. He made a beeline for the restaurant, Stanley’s Pizza, and waved to the cashier as he stepped through the small doorway.

“Hey.” Steve smiled. “Any chance I can borrow your phone?” 

The cashier looked confused. And very, very flustered. “Of course, Mr. Rogers. I mean Captain America. I mean. Sorry. Captain. Captain Rogers? Captain Steve?”

“Steve is fine.” He assured her. He gestured to the phone in her hand. “Can I?”

She nodded repeatedly. “Of course.”

"Thank you." Steve gave her a wide smile.

"Did you want some pizza too? I mean, it's fine if you don't. But our pizza is really good. You should try some. That is, if you like pizza. Do you? Like pizza, I mean. Do you like pizza?”

It tasted like ash to him and he hated it. But in this case, he smiled. “I love it.”

“Cool.” She said, a little breathless. Steve took the phone she held out and walked over to the door.

“I just need a few minutes.” He told her, motioning towards the front door.

“Right. Of course. Didn’t meant to pry.” She sounded confused but didn't say anything to stop him.

Steve went to the website for his messaging app on incognito mode. It wouldn't show up in her history. He almost logged in to his usual account but then he realized that if his laptop had been infiltrated, that account was probably being monitored. He quickly created a new account and then paused. What exactly was her going to say? He floundered for a few seconds before coming up with the words.

**TheShadow1943**  
_You know who this is._

**ImperiousRex**  
_Yes, I do. Why the new account?_

Steve almost considered taking the time to answer, but didn’t. He needed to focus on the bigger goal. Imperious Rex would be able to help him, if he was as good of a hacker as S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed to think that he was. 

**TheShadow1943**  
_S.H.I.E.L.D. has you on their radar. And are actively tracking you._

**ImperiousRex**  
_I know. Interesting that you would try to warn me._

**TheShadow1943**  
_I have a favor to ask for in return_

**ImperiousRex**  
_What is it?_

**TheShadow1943**  
_Disappear._

**ImperiousRex**  
_What?_

**TheShadow1943**  
_Disappear. You get arrested, I’m caught. So don’t._

**ImperiousRex**  
_It's funny you think you can stop this from happening_

With that short message, he closed the app and walked back to the counter where the cashier and another young girl were standing behind the counter. The closer he got, the more they both practically vibrated with excitement.

“Thanks." He handed the phone back. "I think I left mine in the back of a cab, if you can believe it."

The girls both giggled. Steve didn’t see what was funny. “Yeah.”

“Can I get a piece of pepperoni?” Steve asked, pulling out his wallet. Both girls bumped into each other trying to grab it. Steve smiled when they looked embarrassed.

“It’s really good pizza.” One of the girls insisted as she rung him up.

At $5 a slice, it had better be.

“I’m sure.” He smiled widely.

Steve was handed a hot slice and the bite he took was greasy and disgusting- honestly the perfect pizza- Steve wished that he could enjoy it but it still tasted like ash. But he gave both girls a thumbs-up and disappeared out the door before they could think to ask him for a selfie.

He headed back towards his apartment reluctantly. If for no other reason than he didn’t want too many more red flags raised surrounding his behavior. He knew reaching out to Imperious Rex was a mistake. That he'd toed right up to a line he definitely shouldn't cross. He could only assume at this point that S.H.I.E.L.D. knew only that he was sympathetic to the recent movement for demon rights. And he hadn’t exactly hidden that, really. Most anyone who had thought to ask knew Steve wasn’t a supporter of the Churchill Laws. 

But there was much more to it than that. He had to make sure they didn’t know the rest of it. That he was a demon. That he wasn’t good enough to be Captain America. Not human enough to wear the uniform. Steve stopped in his tracks and sat on the curb with his head in his hands. He didn’t want to give it up. But he’d never let them take it away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr) for CapRBB2018


	13. Everything I Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr)

The secretary in Fury’s office was on her feet as soon as she saw Steve coming off of the elevator. But the time he’d stepped in to the small lobby area that held her desk she was planted in front of the door, arms crossed and feet shoulder width apart. She was ready for Steve to absolutely bowl through her to get through the door in to Fury’s office. If he wasn’t in such a foul mood from a bad night with Bucky that ended with him waking up with a serious headache, he would have probably found it amusing. Instead, he scowled as he pulled to a stop right in front of her.

“I need to see Director Fury.” He said tersely.

“Captain.” She forced herself to keep a straight face. “The Director is incredibly busy this morning.”

Steve just continued to scowl at her.

“You can’t just walk in there.” She demanded.

More scowling.

“I’m not moving.” She said sharply, eyes narrowing angrily.

“You’re going to have to forgive me for this then.” Steve flashed something close to a grin, put a hand on each of her shoulders, and lifted her out of the way. She gasped angrily but at that point she was already out of the way. “Maybe you could buzz Fury to let him know I’m on my way in.”

He took a few steps towards the door and went to tug it open, but found that it was locked. Steve yanked but noticed that, unless he wanted to completely yank the door from it’s frame, he wasn’t getting in to the room. He turned and found the secretary smirking at him, looking incredibly smug and not the least bit sorry.

“I can pencil you in for some time after lunch.” She told him, stepping around the desk primly.

“You really did that just for show?” He asked her. She looked up at him innocently.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“I’d be impressed if I wasn’t in a rush to see the director.” He told her, voice stern.

“Director Fury is very concerned about his privacy. He’s in a meeting.” She explained with a smile.

“I’m sure.” Steve scowled.

“I’d be happy to give him a message when he’s done.” She said, holding the same smile.

“I think you should use your intercom to let him know that I’m here to see him.” Steve demanded.

She shot daggers at him but leaned over her desk to hit the intercom button anyway. Fury’s response came second later and directed for Steve to be let in. He glanced down at her nameplate and tried not to look too smug as he went for the now unlocked door.

“Thank you, Carla.” He called over his shoulder. He heard her huff angrily.

As Steve pushed the door open, he heard her angrily informing the director that he’d manhandled her. Steve would apologize on his way out. Maybe. Not that he had anything against her, he wasn’t lying when he said he’d have been amused if it was a better day for him, but she also didn’t think she’d accept the apology if he gave it. 

“Fury.” Steve took a few steps in to the room and stopped.

“I think you owe my secretary an apology.” Fury said instead of greeting him.

In the chair on the other side of Fury’s desk sat a familiar face. It was scowling at him in disapproval and a little bit of worry. Steve shouldn’t have been surprised to find her there, but found that he was. He gave Natasha a short nod.

“Natasha.”

“Steve.” Her frown shifted into a smirk.

“I assume you had a reason for barging in here?” Fury asked him.

“I do.” Steve nodded.

There was a pause.

“Are you planning to share it with the rest of us?” Fury asked him. Steve shifted uncomfortably.

He figured the not-so-subtle glance he cast towards Natasha painted a clear enough picture for all of them, but Natasha just smiled at him and gave a little wave. She wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

Steve decided to grab one of the glasses of water on the sideboard of Fury’s desk, took a drink, and settled in to the other seat next to Natasha. 

“I wanted to talk to you about our mission.” Steve said finally. “Well, missions.”

Fury gave him a confused look, shooting between Steve and Natasha. “You don’t like your missions?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Steve shook his head.

“So this is about me keeping you off Strike Team missions for the time being?” Fury pressed.

“I didn’t tell him about that.” Natasha tried to cover. Fury just gave her a look.

“Of course you did.” He shot back. Natasha shrugged.

“Yeah, I did.” She admitted. Fury didn’t look annoyed by the lie but shook his head.

“It’s about them being bullshit.” And then, belatedly, Steve tacked on a “Sir.”

Fury just stared at him for a moment. Steve recognized that, not being a part of his conversation with Strike Team, they weren’t quite up to speed on what he meant. He hadn’t thought his phrasing through. It wasn’t coming out the way that he’d planned for it to in his head, which was a first. “We’re just cleaning up your messes. S.H.I.E.L.D’s messes. It’s nothing but transport missions and retrieving dangerous things or stopping dangerous people.”

He trailed off. Fury looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Yes, that’s literally the entire job.”

“Not every day and be saving the world from the aliens.” Natasha drawled. But she looked concerned.

Steve had expected himself to be a little more eloquent. But his palms were sweating. He downed another few gulps of the water and squeezed his eyes shut. His point just wasn’t coming out the way that he wanted it to. 

“It’s not that.” Steve shook his head.

“Then what is it?” Fury asked him.

“When I started, there was a war.” Steve began. But the rest of the sentence escaped him. “We need to be doing good. Making a positive impact. Not bullshit. Captain America needs to do good.”

“What?” Fury sounded flabbergasted. 

“I want to do good.” Steve repeated.

Natasha was looking torn between laughing and calling a doctor. “Steve?”

She stood, facing Steve and reaching to put a hand to his head. Steve knew he was making no sense. Something was wrong. Something wasn’t right. His nerves were so frazzled that he couldn’t get his mind to focus. But the moment she stood, his whole mind focused on a pinpoint. He was frozen, staring at the open zipper of Natasha’s pocket. It had allowed the pocket of her jacket to pop open and make the contents visible. And her pocket was not empty.

It had a single vial. A single, very familiar vial. Steve’s heart sank.

They had to know everything. If Natasha had his vial… Steve felt himself shrink inward. If that was his…

“I’m sorry.” He said quickly, standing so fast that he upended the half full glass of water. “I have to go. I’ll come back when I have my thoughts in order. I apologize. I’m just a bit scattered.”

“Steve.”

“I’m fine.” He told her. She looked ready to hit him. “I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well.”

And then he was gone. Neither Fury nor Natasha ran after him, not that he expected them too, but he was glad no security was called to stop him from leaving the building. Steve cursed himself out in the elevator. If they didn’t already have every single red flag raised, Steve just raised them. It had all seemed so simple the night before. He was supposed to walk in, talk about needing a purpose, and suggest the legacy initiative. It was meant to be a good thing. Steve was going to be contributing to his legacy.

God even knew what that was going to be once they learned the truth about him. 

Steve stomped up the steps to his apartment three at a time. He was surprised when he got to his level to find Kate standing outside her door. It looked like she was trying to lock it. He’d startled her so much that she’d dropped the key on the floor in her nerves. Steve stopped in his tracks.

“Hey.” He said with a nod. She nodded back.

“Hey yourself.” She smiled.

“I’ve been meaning to apologize.” He said shortly. Steve could really only think about getting past her.

“Oh, no need.” She smiled at him. “It’s in the past.”

Steve smiled sheepishly. “I was having a bad day. It was a rough time.”

“I understand, Captain.”

“Steve.” He corrected her. “Please.”

She smiled. “I understand, Steve.”

“I have to run. But I’m sorry again.” Steve smiled as best he could and continued past her in to his apartment. The first place he went was to the record player. That’s where it would be if he had it. Steve yanked the bottom of it out to expose the hiding place. It held both of the remaining two vials. One half full, one unopened.

He sank to the floor in tears.

“Steve?” He looked up, towards his bedroom. Bucky was standing there. He looked worse for wear.

“Bucky.” Steve shoved all of it away and stood. Of course his mind would give him Bucky right now. For the first time since Steve had started seeing him, Bucky moved out of the bedroom to where Steve was sitting on the floor of the living room. 

“Oh, Steve.” Bucky whispered. He settled on the floor next to but not touching Steve. “Don’t do this.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t.” 

“I do.” Steve screamed.

“I told you not to take this stuff.” Bucky whispered. He was shaking his head. “It’s bad stuff, Steve.”

Steve scowled. “I can’t be Captain America without it.”

“You’re not Captain America on it.” Bucky countered.

Steve had to admit his point. Steve was home, crying, in his apartment because he’d lost his damn mind in Fury’s office. Steve wasn’t sure he’d ever acted so unhinged in front of people. He wiped at his tears. Bucky was staring at him. Steve shook his head. Bucky didn’t understand. 

“I’m afraid if I stop taking it, you’ll go back to before.” Steve admitted.

“What?” Bucky’s head cocked to the side.

“You’ve been more ‘you’ since I’ve been taking it.” Steve explained. “Less scared. You remember me.”

Bucky winced. “That has nothing to do with you, Steve.”

“Of course it does.” Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re my delusion.”

Bucky looked over at Steve intently. “Is that what you think I am?”

“I know you’re not real.” Steve insisted. Bucky smiled at him.

“So you’ve said.” He whispered. 

“I like seeing you.” Steve told him. “Even if it means I’m crazy. Even if you’re not really here. I miss you.”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. “Steve, I won’t stay this way forever.”

“Why not?”

“Because I never do. I think I’m on a mission. I don’t what it is yet.” Bucky shook his head. He shifted a little closer to where Steve was huddled on the ground. “That first night I saw you I didn’t think I knew who you were. But I do now. I think it had just been so long that I’d forgotten. I don’t always remember things. Sometimes not even who I am. But I remember you.”

Steve just waited for him to finish. “But you’re not really here.”

“I’m not.” Bucky agreed.

“You think you’re in Tartarus.” Steve continued. Bucky nodded.

“That’s where they send me when they don’t need me.” He agreed. Steve had to try not to laugh.

“Remember that time when we were kids and I told my mom I was going to learn to fly?” Steve asked him. Bucky laughed and nodded. Of course he remembered. Steve was in the same memory. “I almost get sent to the doctors for that.”

“Again.” Bucky laughed. 

“I had wings at one point.” Steve whispered to Bucky. It was barely louder than a breath.

“I’m sure they looked beautiful.” Bucky told him. And he sounded so earnest.

“Captain America is the only thing I have left.” Steve told Bucky. They stared at each other for along moment. “I already lost you. I lost everything else. Being Captain America is the only thing I have left.”

Bucky shook his head. “You were always more than just Captain America, Steve.”

They lapsed in to silence. Steve wanted to curl in to Bucky’s side but knowing that he’d just pass right through air, Steve resisted. He didn’t need the pain of watching his hand proved how delusional he was. Instead he leaned his head against the couch and waited for the worst of the pain in his stomach to pass. He still felt a little ill. But he could breathe. He was okay. Steve nodded to himself, stood, and went to restore the vials to their hiding place.

“You can’t keep on like this.” Bucky said quietly. Steve stared down at the vials in his hand.

“I don’t have a choice.” Steve whispered. He could hear the broken hitch in his own voice.

* * *

 

"A legacy project?” Fury asked him, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want to do performances.”

Steve shrugged. “I want to make a positive impact.”

“And you want to do that by reaching the school children?” Fury asked him. Steve nodded. 

“I think it could be fun.” Steve continued. “It doesn’t all have to be in person. Maybe a series of educational videos. Something that we can show the kids at school so that we, the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. both, can have a little bit of a more positive effect on schools and children.”

Fury still seemed skeptical. “I think we have a plenty positive impact.”

“Most kids only associate the Avengers with the Battle of New York.” Steve pointed out.

“It was the first time the team assembled.” Fury reminded him. Steve huffed.

“Yes, but maybe we shouldn’t only show them how cool it looks to smash buildings and kill aliens?”

“I thought you were out here looking for a fight, Rogers.” Fury said with a half laugh.

“I’m never looking for the fight, sir,” Steve told him with a grin, “it just always seems to find me.”

Fury did laugh at that, and Steve felt himself relax. He’d practiced this speech with Bucky for over an hour- which meant he’d rehearsed it with himself but whatever, it was still practicing. And when he’d come in to Fury it was with a much more solid approach. He’d even waited for Carla to open the door for him this time. 

“I’m glad you seem less frantic this time.” Fury admitted to him. “You were definitely out of it before.”

Steve nodded. “I was. I didn’t feel well.”

They both went silent, regarding each other. Steve had relaxed since Fury didn’t seem put off or shocked by his non-violent suggestion. And even seemed supportive of getting the project off the ground. Steve was relieved. Coming back had felt like madness up until he had gotten in to the room. But then Fury had smiled at him and Steve gave his speech and no doctors or police were called to remove him. He just heard him out and said okay.

“I have to meet Pierce for a gathering of the council.” Fury said with a roll of his eyes. He stood.

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.” Steve said again. Fury just waved him off.

“I think it’s a great idea. I’ll see what our marketing team can put together for you to work on.” Fury nodded. Steve smiled and left the office via the front doors. Fury headed to the elevator in the back of the office. As Steve stepped in to the lobby he wasn’t surprised to find Natasha waiting for him there.

“Hey.” She said simply.

“Hey.” He nodded.

“I’m on your detail for the rest of the day.” She explained. “Fury’s orders. That a problem?”

For a short second, he considered saying yes. “No. I was going to go for a run, though.”

“Lets spar instead.” She suggested. There was a mean glint in her eyes.

“I’d rather live to see the end of the day.” Steve made a face and she forced a rather convincing lighthearted laugh. Carla was watching them go back and forth as if it was a tennis match. “How about we grab lunch? I found a neat pizza place the other night.”

Natasha made a show of being surprised. “You actually went exploring?”

“Somebody said something about me getting back in to the world.” He quipped.

“I actually said a date.” Natasha reminded him. “And I definitely am not on that list, if you were asking.”

Steve shook his head. “We just mentioned me wanting to live through the day. Just lunch.”

She laughed again, even more convincingly, and motioned for Steve to lead the way. He did, but with the distinct impression that he was walking in to some kind of trap. But she didn’t say anything more. Not in the elevator. Not in the way through the lobby. Not even as they drove her flashy little sports car across the bridge in to the city. It wasn’t until Steve realized she hadn’t even asked him for the name of the pizza place that he realized she wasn’t taking him there.

“Where we headed?” He asked her, mood darkening.

“My apartment.” She said shortly.

Natasha whipped her car on to the highway and accelerated, leaving Steve with the need to pick up both his jaw and stomach from the floor of the car.

“Oh.” He said dumbly. Natasha smirked. 

“Yeah.” She laughed. “Oh.”

She drove out of the city a short distance, staying out of both of D.O.Z. and H.O.Z. areas that lined the Potomac. About ten minutes out of the city, Natasha pulled up in to a quaint complex with two and three story buildings organized around a central courtyard. It looked absolutely painfully normal. Steve looked between the simple building with grey siding and Natasha a few times.

“Expecting something different?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. Steve nodded.

“I guess I expected something more spy-like.” Steve admitted.

“Nondescript? Anonymous?” Natasha smirked at him. “Or do you mean sleek and flashy Stark-style penthouse in the heart of D.C.?”

Steve had to laugh. “Alright, you got me there.”

“I think your idea of what S.H.I.E.L.D. agents get paid is bit skewed.” She told him. 

He followed her up the steps of the building, which was identical to the twenty other buildings on the property as far as Steve could see. The only thing that set it apart was the large black number painted above the stairway. Something about it reminded Steve of military barracks, and not in a good way. Natasha was on the third floor, which Steve figured was on purpose. She led him in to a simple apartment with white walls, sparse art, and beige carpet.

 “So, it’s still kind of a penthouse?” He teased. Natasha laughed.

“Water?” She offered. Steve shook his head. 

The kitchen looked over in to the living room. Three doors dotted the back wall and Steve assumed those led to the rest of the apartment. Natasha took a few seconds in her kitchen before walking out with a few things in her hands. She dropped them on the table and before Steve could even register what they were, she sprayed him in the face with a spray bottle.

“What the hell?” He shot up off of the couch, wiping at his no drenched face.

“Does that burn?” She asked him. Steve shook his head. Something else hit him and Steve recognized the taste of salt on his skin.

“How about that?” She challenged.

“No.” Steve admitted. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“You’re no demon.” She explained. A towel smacked him in the face and Steve wiped the salt and water from it. “And we’re going to prove it to you.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“Sure I am.”

“You remember the horns right? The Tesseract?”  Stark may have never told her about the wings. About the surgeries. But even to prove his point, Steve wasn’t going to expose himself that far. Natasha just stared him down, looking unimpressed.

“You’ve been genetically modified.” She agreed. “But you’re human. And we have science to prove it.”

Steve just rolled his eyes. “That is the second time you’ve said ‘we’. Can whoever is hiding skip the dramatic reveal and just come out? You’re wrong either way.”

“We’re not. Science doesn’t lie.” Natasha shook her head.

“Red’s telling the truth.” Someone else added. Steve stared at Tony for a second before registering him.

“Told you.” She said, obviously gloating.

“And you’re not dying.” Tony told him, smiling widely. “So, like, great news all around.”=

“Tony?” Steve gave him a quick hug. “What are you doing here?”

Tony sighed. “Well, I was going to come in to an awesome soundtrack and lighting thing I rigged up. But then you told us to cut the dramatics. Which is incredibly ironic, coming from you.”

“Again.” Natasha cut in. “We have science. It’s Stark. So you know there’s science.”

Steve just looked between them. “Then why the water and salt and theatrics.”

“Fun.” Natasha shrugged.

“You agreed to this?” Steve asked Natasha.

She shrugged and said nothing, instead helping Tony remove a few things from his bag that looked scientific and setting them on the coffee table. Steve was unimpressed. He settled back on to the couch and waited as they unloaded everything. 

“Now, I’ve had Jarvis running complex analysis on your genetics ever sense you woke up.” Tony admitted. “And we’ve recently come to the conclusion that whichever way you look at it, you have what is almost indecipherable DNA.”

Steve made a face. “Thanks?”

“It’s blended. But like, in the sense of you put a banana in a blender to make a smoothie type blended.”

“Ok.” Steve didn’t see where he was going with this.

“Remember that banana joke, it will pay off in a minute.” Tony insisted to Steve. 

Steve just nodded. Tony tapped one of the devices on the table and a holographic image of a double helix popped up. Tony made a short gesture and the helix started to spin slowly. Another gesture, and colors faded on to shorter segments up and down the length of the it. Steve could admire the technology and the aesthetics of the presentation, but he still didn’t see how this led to them determining that he wasn’t a demon.

“This is your DNA.” Tony told him. “And all of the colored portions you’re seeing are human proteins.”

Steve could hardly see a portion that wasn’t colored. “How?”

“Demon DNA isn’t human. Obviously.” Tony made a dismissive gesture. “It follows entirely different rules, is formed of different base compounds. It’s why most of Washington doesn’t believe mixed breeds or even ‘half-breeds’ exist.”

Steve made a face. “Doesn’t this prove that they do?”

“Any of them that have come forward to be tested.” Tony fished for words for a second before gesturing back to the model of Steve’s DNA. Imagine this in inverse. Any human portions are limited. And within the margin of error for the way standard labs are run.”

Steve frowned. “But I’m a mix?”

“You had the entirety of science and my father’s intellect behind making it work.” Tony waved it away.

“But it’s possible.” Steve insisted.

“Now he believes us.” Natasha drawled.

“No. But it’s not one or the other. It’s both. If it’s possible, and I’m mostly human, then the Nephilim exist and are right. If it’s not, and you’re wrong, I’m a demon. And Nephilim don’t exist.” Steve demanded. Neither of them looked particularly pleased with his reasoning.

“I’m never wrong.” Tony said with a nod. “Your DNA is approximately 97.4% human.”

Steve’s eyebrows went up in to his hairline. “That much?”

“Don’t get too excited. Bananas at 99.9% identical.” Tony waved. Then he laughed at his own cleverness. “See? I told you the banana thing would come back up.”

Natasha sighed. “Focus, Tony.”

“My point is that even if this was flagged within S.H.I.E.L.D.’s computer, they wouldn’t have a system in place to call it Demon. You’d be human according to their system.” Tony explained excitedly.

“Why tell me like this?” Steve asked, eyes narrowing.

“It’s not our choice to tell S.H.I.E.L.D. what we found.” Natasha shrugged.

“It kind of is.” Tony corrected. “But it does require your cooperation.”

Steve frowned. “I either follow along or I’m outed?” 

“You have been a wreck and you know it.” Natasha pointed out gently. “We’re not going to out you to S.H.I.E.L.D. with this. But how much longer do you really think you’re going to be able to keep it all together?” 

Steve frowned. “I don’t see how any of this is possible.”

“It is.” Tony shrugged.

“Then how was it not caught two years ago? Immediately?” He demanded.

“It looks like demon DNA. Acts like demon DNA.” Tony shook his head. “After New York we didn’t expose your samples to that testing because there was no point. The horns and all that kind of made it moot, I thought.-”

“I _specifically asked_ you for those tests, Tony.” Steve ground out. Tony didn’t even slow down.

“-And Jarvis modified your samples for S.H.I.E.L.D. on his own, I was never looking at the original, just the finished product.”

“This doesn’t make sense.” Steve insisted.

“You do have demon attributes.” Tony admitted.

“I had wings.” Steve hissed at him. He heard Natasha gasp and remembered that she hadn’t known.

“You had growths that we removed. And after two years, those haven’t grown back.” Tony hedged. “It could be been cause be the residual exposure to the Tesseract.”

Steve didn’t want to admit to ripping bones out of himself on more than one occasion.

That might win the battle but would definitely cost him the war.

He had to reason with them. Steve knew that they were wrong.

“But you said.” Steve was shaking his head. “You talked about the symptoms before and I have them. New York. Serum malfunctioning. Fried brain stew. And you’re not wrong. You’re never wrong. Like you said. I asked you for the tests.”

Tony was just staring at him. “I believe that’s what I said would happen if you were dying.”

“You said that I _was_ dying.” Steve snapped at him.

“Not in as many words.” Tony hedged. 

“In those exact words.” Steve shouted. When they both flinched he forced himself to be still.

“And psychotic.” Natasha added. She crossed her arms.

“I…” Steve opened and closed his mouth a few times. “This isn’t making any sense to me.”

Tony put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I know it’s complicated. And there’s some legal stuff to sort out.” 

Steve was shaking his head. Tony and Natasha were outlining their plan to absolve them all of any guilt. Steve would turn himself in. Be tested- by Tony- who would reveal the elements of the serum which had previously been kept secret. They would let Steve be registered as a human and everything with S.H.I.E.L.D. would be fine. No more need for secrecy and lying. Steve would be able to go to S.H.I.E.L.D. doctors with his problems. 

“But you’re wrong.” Steve insisted. Neither of them listened to him. 

“We’ll have to make some kind of statement because if it gets leaked the public won’t like it.”

“Maria can handle that.” Natasha said with a wave of her hand. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Tony nodded. He stood.

“YOU. ARE. WRONG.” Steve shouted. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense.

“We’re really not.” Tony insisted. He didn’t sit back down and instead continued to pack. “Listen, you want to play ball, this is how you stay on the team. We should have come at it this way two years ago.”

Steve growled and stood back up. “You’re lying to me.”

“We’re not.” Natasha was standing now too. They were all at a standoff around Natasha’s table.

“Steve.” Tony looked at him sympathetically.

He crumpled back down on to the couch. Tony came and sat next to him, putting an arm on his shoulder. Steve just shook his head over and over. It didn’t make sense. He’d had the wings. He’d had the horns. He’d had to rip pieces of himself off. The serum didn’t kill him.

The serum didn’t kill him.

“I’ve been taking AVX serum.” Steve said in to the quiet. “Acetovaxidol.”

For a second, nobody said anything. Then Tony scoffed. “Well, that’s just plain stupid.”

“Why?” Natasha demanded. She looked horrified.

“You didn’t know?” Steve asked her. She shook her head.

“Why did you assume that I did?”

“You had a vial. Yesterday in Fury’s office. It’s identical to the one I get the serum in.” Steve shook his head. “I thought you knew I was taking it and that I was busted.”

Natasha went in to her room and came back with a short vial and tossed it on to the table.

“That’s not your vial.” She snapped at Steve.

“It’s not?” Steve picked it up. It was short and clear with a thick rubber black cap. Just like his.

“We’ll get back to that.” Natasha waved a dismissive hand at him. “Acetovaxidol is dangerous, Steve. And potentially deadly. It’s caused multiple psychotic breaks that S.H.I.E.L.D. has been called in to deal with and you’re just, what, taking it for funsies?” 

“Did you just say funsies?” Tony asked her. Steve ignored him.

“It stopped the pain.” He said quietly.

“Pain?” Natasha sounded concerned.

“And the regrowth.” Steve admitted, even more quietly.

“The what.” Tony sounded furious.

“I could feel more. I wasn’t numb.”

“Did we not make a rule about secrets?” Tony asked him. “Because I’m counting several.”

“You haven’t exactly been dropping by regularly.” Steve pointed out.

“Jesus Christ.” Tony was practically shaking. He and Natasha shared a look that Steve pretended not to notice was more than a little tinged with absolute horror. Steve just hunched forward. His head was started to ache from the stress. Natasha just sat next to him.

“You’re not going to take any more of it.” She demanded.

“You’re not going to say anything about him going on missions while taking it?” Tony demanded.

“I seem to remember a period not that long ago that involved you dosing yourself in secret. So why don’t you go stable that high horse, alright?” Natasha snapped at him. Steve appreciated it. Tony sighed and settled back on to the couch.

“You know, I told Pep I was popping in to say hi and not having an intervention for Captain Drama.”

“She’ll be fine.” Natasha rolled her eyes at him, but her tone was kinder.

Steve wanted to take back all of the words. It wasn’t making sense to him. The logic just didn’t add up. They don’t recognize their own DNA in Steve’s samples? For two years? This all comes out right as Steve is pretty sure Natasha (and Fury, for that matter) catch on to Steve taking the serum. AND being contacted by Imperious Rex. They had a play. His only move right now was to see where the road was heading.

“When was your last dose?” Tony asked Steve. He shrugged.

“Last night.” And that was true. Steve didn’t see the need to lie.

“I want a new sample. I need to see what effect the AVX is having.” Tony went and pulled a kit from his bag and Steve let him. “And I’ll be back in a month. I don’t want you to take any more before then, alright? It’s dangerous for you to take it.” 

Dangerous if they believed he wasn’t a demon. Steve just nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll hold him to it.” Natasha told Tony.

“You will?” Steve asked her. He was teasing but the glare she shot him was serious.

“Even if I have to restrain you every minute you’re not directly in my line of sight.” She told him.

 Steve didn’t think that she was lying.


	14. Here I Go Again (On My Own)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr)

Natasha walked with him up to his apartment. Steve knew what she was doing but still let her come up behind him anyways. Telling her no only meant that he’d have to worry about her breaking in when he wasn’t home to search on her own. And, he wouldn’t lie, knowing that she cared enough to search his apartment surprised him just enough that he wanted to see it happen.

“Want to tell me where it is to save us both time?” She asked him.

“I’m out.” Steve lied. He settled on to the bar stool at his kitchen counter.

“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth.” Natasha said. It was without heat and she was already rifling through his drawers absently.

“I had arranged to get more.” He explained.

“From who?”

“I don’t know their name.” Steve shrugged. “And they change their username pretty often.”

Natasha stared at him. “You’re buying your drugs on the internet.”

“I’m a twenty-first century man now.” Steve shot back with a grin. It made her laugh.

She continued to search and Steve pretended to be interested in everything but her progress. He did a few dishes, which only served to remind him that he needed to eat something pretty soon. Then he moved to some laundry. Natasha looked tempted to check the basket before he tossed it in to the washer but relented in favor of rifling through each and every book on his bookshelf. Steve figured she thought he might have hollowed out a book as a hiding spot.

That honestly wasn’t a horrible idea. If he hadn’t had a better one, he might have ended up there.

“You’re better at hide and seek than I thought you’d be.” She admitted after an hour.

“I’m not hiding anything.” He claimed.

“We both know that’s not true.” Natasha scoffed. Steve couldn’t help but laugh.

There was a tense moment where he was laughing and she wasn’t. But she relaxed and sat on the arm of his couch, facing him. Steve figured she was done searching and felt himself relax as well.

“You know we’re only trying to help, right?”

He did. Steve nodded. Natasha continued to stare at him all sanctimoniously.

“And you’re only getting in your own way by not being honest.”

“Is this a lecture about truth?” Steve asked her, more than a little incredulous. She bristled.

“For someone I’ve never directly lied to, you sound pretty shocked about that.” Natasha stood, angry. “If you’re keeping score, and you probably should be, you’d recognize that you’ve had a lot more occasions to lie than I have. I make a living off of lies. You’ve built your whole damn life on them.”

She went to stomp away. Steve stood off of his stool. “It’s not my fault that it’s the only life I have left.”

“Isn’t it?” She asked him. Steve scowled at the door after she slammed it behind her.

She might not have found Steve’s serum, but honestly the victory felt incredibly hollow.

He was still sitting at the counter feeling sorry for himself when he thought about the laptop. He hadn’t seen Natasha find it. Steve didn’t see it anywhere. He was pretty sure he’d left it on the coffee table but the whole thing was cleaned. There wasn’t anything on the table at all. Steve looked around. Other, littler things were also standing out to him now. Hadn’t he left that Madame President book in the Study? Why was it out in the stack by the window? And hadn’t the study door be closed when he left? Why had it been open when he’d come back with Natasha?

Steve started to tear his apartment apart in earnest. The laptop was well and truly gone.

A bunch of other things had been moved. Not super noticeable if you weren’t paying attention. But once Steve started paying attention to it he had trouble _not_ noticing it. It wasn’t just the books either. It was everything. He wasn’t sure if his mind was playing tricks on him but he was also pretty sure that someone had moved his couch like a foot to the left.

“What the hell is going on?” Steve asked himself.

He even pulled the mattress off of the bed. No laptop.

Steve felt insane. Even more so than when he saw his dead best friend. There was supposed to be laptop in his apartment. There wasn’t one. And Steve could only think of a very limited number of reasons why that might be the case. And it’s not like he could stomp in to Fury’s office and demand access to the laptop he’d bought behind their backs. Well. He could. But Steve didn’t think that it would really go over so well.

“I’m losing my damn mind.” Steve whispered to the emptiness.

“And I’m talking to myself.” He continued. “Even better.”

Part of him wanted Natasha to come back and demand her explanation. He wasn’t sure if some of these things that moved were her doing. Not that he thought she moved his couch. He knew that she didn’t. He’d been watching her the entire time that she was searching it. He was positive that she hadn’t. But he was getting just desperate enough to want her to second that opinion.

It was like his apartment had been entirely rifled through while he wasn’t there.

And he was in just the right profession for that to be a legitimate concern.

Cursing because this was a bigger issue than he had been wanting to cop to, he yanked his cell phone from his pocket and went to dial Natasha. This was an issue that S.H.I.E.L.D. needed to know about- even if it was them that did it, they should know that he _knew_ that it had happened. But when he went to dial her number, the phone wouldn’t work. The screen was entirely unresponsive. And then, a large pop up came up on to the screen.

_ARE YOU ALONE?_

_YES                   NO_

Steve hesitated for a moment. He glanced towards the balcony. If Natasha had taken the stairs he might be able to wave her down on the street. How much time had passed since she left? Not much. He went to step towards the window and another pop up came on to his phone.

It was a photo of S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents outside his buildings.

The caption: _THIS AFTERNOON_.

Steve tossed the phone down on to the counter and cussed. He’d have been here if Natasha hadn’t dragged him to her apartment. And there had been no reason, Steve realized now, for them to have that meeting at her apartment over Steve’s. Or Tony’s. Or literally any other private place they could have found. She had purposely made sure Steve was going to be far enough away, out of the city without a car, that he couldn’t get himself back to his apartment in time to see it tossed.

The picture went away. The original pup up came back on to the screen.

_ARE YOU ALONE?_

_YES                   NO_

Steve tapped ‘YES’ quickly.

_CAN YOU LEAVE?_

_YES                   NO_

Steve didn’t see a ‘MAYBE’ option and didn’t know if he’d be able to guarantee that S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t have people who would be following him or watching his every move. He tapped ‘NO’ instead and stared at the phone but nothing happened. The phone screen blacked in and out before going back to normal. He even tapped through as if he was still going to call Natasha. But the screen did nothing. So Steve just switched the screen off and set it back on his counter.

Natasha was not the person that he needed to talk to right now.

And Steve wasn’t even sure who else to call in this situation. Not Tony. He’d say to call Natasha. Or Fury. Somebody at S.H.I.E.L.D. that Steve didn’t want to involve. It frustrated him. He didn’t want the stress of this to get added on to the stress of everything else going on. Passing as human.

The phone vibrated on the counter again but Steve ignored it. He didn’t want this. It was making him uneasy. He ached for some of the serum but remembered the look on Tony’s face. On Bucky’s face. He didn’t need it right now. Not here. He’d take another dose if they needed him for a mission. Only if he had to. It was totally under his control and he could manage to take it responsibly. The others didn’t think he could handle it. But he was Captain America. He was strong. He could handle it.

Steve heard the phone buzz again and his flash of anger was so strong he yanked a book off the shelf and threw it across the room. It was less violent than punching someone, which was what he wanted to do. He could practically feel the need to do it buzzing underneath his skin. He clenched and unclenched his fist to relieve some of the tension.

* * *

Bucky didn’t come that night. And Steve was fine. He swore that he was fine.

But then he didn’t come the night after that either.

Or the one after that.

Or even the one after that.

After a week of it, Steve felt like he was coming to the end of his rope. Steve couldn’t think of why he stopped appearing. He supposed that it was probably a good sign? The end of his delusion, right? But it didn’t feel like that to Steve. It felt like an emptiness. A loss. Steve _wanted_ to see him at night. He started dreading going to bed because he’d be going in to an empty bedroom that was going to _stay_ empty and some how that hurt worse than before the delusion started.

Natasha hadn’t come by. Nobody from S.H.I.E.L.D. had contacted him at all since she left. Not that they really had a consistent means of doing so. Steve’s phone hadn’t stopped vibrating so he dropped in to the toilet in a moment of desperation. It felt like a fitting end to the whole debacle. This Imperious Rex person wanted Steve to engage with them and just…wasn’t going to.

On the ninth day of his self-imposed sabbatical from the real world, Steve thought he figured out the problem. The one thing that had changed, the absolute only thing that had changed in the past week, had been that Steve stopped using the AVX serum. He’d stopped taking it and his body was revolting by punishing him for it. Not seeing Bucky at all was the one punishment worse than when Bucky didn’t even remember him.

He'd rather have something than nothing.

He’d rather have Bucky than his sanity.

And he only knew one way to make that happen.

Which was why he’d pulled out the remaining vial and a half. Steve could take it all. All at once. And if he chose to do that- and it was a choice, Steve was control- than maybe Bucky would come back and Steve wouldn’t be stuck by himself.

He just had to get the faces of the others out of his face. As soon as he didn’t see them each time he went to uncap the vial, he’d down the contents in a heartbeat. That was the only thing even remotely slowing Steve down or keeping him from doing it. Only, their faces were only getting more intense and not less as the days went by. And Steve was getting desperate. At this point he couldn’t even sit in his living room without imagining how disappointed everyone was going to be in him.

It gave him a headache. Which, ironically, was only making him want to take the serum more. Steve had both sitting on his coffee table, waiting for the moment of strength he needed to down them. He just wanted the pain to go away. He wanted everything to stop hurting. And his friends meant well. But they just didn’t understand what Steve was up against.

He downed them both in one go, yanking off the caps at the same time and upending the bitter liquid in to his mouth before he could second guess his own actions.

The serum didn’t go down smoothly. It seared his throat and left his mouth feeling like he’d swallowed an entire lemon. It was more sour when taken in absurdly large doses, apparently. Steve coughed a few times but managed to keep the entirety of it down without vomiting. Barely. He took several deep breaths and went to get a glass of water from the kitchen. It didn’t help. He sat on the couch focusing on taking deep breaths through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. It felt like someone was shocking him with a low voltage of electricity that made his skin buzz uncomfortably.

He just wanted to see Bucky.

Nothing happened. He felt vaguely ill for about thirty minutes, then it passed.

Then he felt like his mouth was too dry so he drank approximately two gallons of water.

Sort of like he’d taken nothing but something doctored to taste like the serum. Natasha, or whoever with S.H.I.E.L.D. had been in his apartment must have messed with the vials. They tricked him. They tricked him and the vials were fakes and the promise Natasha had made him make was a test. It was a test. It was a test that Steve failed.

Wasn’t it always a test? That’s what Fury had said. He’d said it on the first day.

He just had to get to the vials and check them. Steve would be able to tell if they’d been tampered with.

He stood from the couch. Or, he tried too. As Steve stood, he realized that he was actually pretty tired and that the nausea got worse as he moved. So he let himself fall back in to the couch. This was the serum and he was an idiot. He felt like he couldn’t move. His limbs were made of lead and his mouth was stuff with cotton so that he couldn’t scream.

He wanted to scream.

“Help.” He tried to call out. But he wasn’t sure if any noise actually came out. It didn’t sound like anything to him. Steve was having trouble listening to any sounds past the rushing of blood that was roaring in his ears. He tried to swallow the cotton in his mouth and shout again.

“Bucky.” There was definitely no sound that time. Steve couldn’t feel it in his throat.

And that hadn’t been what he was meant to say.

What was he meant to say?

Steve couldn’t remember. He let himself go horizontal on his couch. He was just going to close his eyes for a little bit. Just a minute. The nausea would be gone when he woke up and he’d feel better. Even as the world faded in to black around him, Steve could feel the tinges of sensation that came with the serum creeping back in to his toes. He smiled to himself. He’d taken the serum. He’d done the right thing. This meant that he’d get to see Bucky. Bucky would be there when he woke up.

* * *

Something shook him awake, but Steve couldn’t even say how much later it was. Time had clearly passed. His limbs didn’t want to move properly. When he tried to force his eyes open to see who was trying to wake up him, they didn’t want to cooperate. Instead he mumbled something about being tired and let himself remain still with his eyes closed.

“Steve.” Bucky called him. Steve’s eyes popped open. He felt a hand shake him again.

“I’m awake.” Steve insisted. Bucky was smiling at him. Steve’s heart jumped in his chest at the sight of it.

He was back.

Steve could hardly contain the way his heart danced inside his ribcage.

The serum had worked.

“Hey.” Bucky said softly. Steve couldn’t help but match the wide, glowing grin on Bucky’s face.

“Bucky.” He smiled.

“I’m here.” Bucky put a hand on Steve’s chin and rubbed a thumb against his cheek tenderly.

“I’ve missed you.” Steve admitted. He wasn’t ashamed of the way his tiled his face into Bucky’s hand.

“I’ve missed you to.” Bucky agreed. Steve’s heart was just about full to bursting.

They were on the couch in his living room. Steve had sat up and Bucky was kneeling in front of him, which left them at just about eye level. They just sat that way for a minute, smiling at each other. He looked different than how he’d appeared the previous times. Better. His hair was pulled back and away from his face. There was no stubble on his chin and his cheeks weren’t sunken and hollow. He looked fantastic. Happy. Whole. Steve couldn’t believe that he was there. That they were facing each other.

“I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.” Steve whispered, clasping Bucky’s hand as hard as he could.

“I’m in your head, remember?” Bucky whispered. Steve shook his head.

“I know.” He changed it to a nod. “I know it’s my brain.”

Bucky smiled. “But it feels real.”

“It does.” Steve nodded. His fingers tightened around Bucky’s hand. “I don’t want to do this without you, Bucky. I never have. I don’t know that I could.”

Bucky nodded and gave Steve a conspiratorial grin. “With you ‘til the end of the line, pal.”

And they were actually touching. Steve felt tears in his eyes and laughed at himself.

“I’m a mess.” He admitted to Bucky. Bucky just grinned at him.

“Haven’t you always been?” He asked. Steve snorted.

“So funny.” He drawled, rolling his eyes.

“I’m serious.” Bucky was still smiling but his tone was insistent. “Isn’t this the latest in a long line of Steve Rogers’ self-destructive tendencies taking their toll?

In his surprise at Bucky appearing in front of him, Steve hadn’t even thought about how different it all was. Bucky never touched him before. He never got close to Steve unless Steve moved close to him first. And they’d never been able to hold each other because Steve’s hands had passed right through him. Because he wasn’t really there. Something about this was different.

“You’re putting it together now, aren’t you?” Bucky asked him.

“No.” Steve insisted. He shook his head a few times.

“Now, now. Don’t lie to me.” Bucky mocked. He stood and paced the living room instead of sitting.

“Why is this happening?” Steve asked him. “Why are you doing this?”

Bucky scoffed. “I’m not doing anything. You’re doing this to yourself. I’m just here to watch.”

“Bucky.”

“Who else could torture you more effectively?” Bucky asked him. He shook his head.

“This is a nightmare.” Steve realized. Dread dug roots into his stomach and bloomed up his spine, making him dizzy. He spun in a full circle, taking in his surrounding and stopping to stare at Bucky again. “This is a nightmare. You’re not really here.”

“Of course not.” Bucky laughed at him. “But I thought you knew that.”

Steve swallowed and tried to think of how to explain. “I mean. I did. But I thought it meant like…”

“A delusion?” He asked.

"Maybe?” Steve shrugged. He could feel the cold sweats breaking out along his brow and shivered.

“A psychotic break?” Bucky offered. Steve cringed and shook his head.

“No. No. No, no, of course not.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

“You just wanted to live a lie for a little bit longer, huh?” Bucky’s voice was tinged in mock sympathy. Steve took a deep, gasping breath. It felt like he was drowning in panic. “You’re good at living those aren’t you? Not a soldier. Not a real one, anyways. And not human. At least, not entirely. And why? To try and convince yourself that you’re good enough? So desperate to feel powerful, you’re willing to believe that you’re a _demon_ of all things.”

He laughed cruelly. Steve swallowed. “No. No. That’s not right.”

“Isn’t it?” Bucky mocked.

“Yes?” Steve nodded. “I mean no. I think?”

Bucky paused, pursed his lips. “Do you know what _I_ think Bucky would say if he were here?”

“No.” Steve whispered it. Bucky’s barking laugh told him that he’d heard it.

“I mean, I’m you. So you already know. But nobody does denial quite like Steve Rogers.” Bucky mocked.

“Stop.” Steve begged him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and didn’t noticed Bucky pulling closer. His voice was suddenly right at Steve’s ear. “I think he’d ask why you thought I left in the first place?”

“Stop it.” Steve shouted.

“I never could get away from you.” Bucky clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“We’re together ‘til the end of the line.” Steve told Bucky. Bucky’s scoff was mocking.

“You’ve spent your whole life trying to be good enough.” Bucky accused. “And you’ll never accept that you’re not. It’s pathetic. _You’re_ pathetic. You think you deserve to be Captain America?”

“Yes.” Steve insisted. Bucky leaned close to Steve again, his smile slipping in to something deadly.

“You think you deserve to live while I’m dead? And dead because of you?” He asked. Steve swallowed.

“I-I-I never wanted to lose you.” Steve said, breaking down quietly. Bucky just pulled away and took a few steps back, shoving his hands into his pockets. He regarded Steve’s sobbing form almost scientifically, studying the results of his attack with a weird clinical detachment.

“You’re not even trying to wake up.” Bucky finally surmised.

He hadn’t realized that he should be. Steve didn’t even consider it as an option when, honestly, it should have been his first escape attempt. Instead he’d just stay their and taken Bucky’s abuse with nothing but meek protestations and a large assortment of tears. Bucky laughed again, this time uproariously as if it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard. Steve’s cheeks flared with embarrassment.

“Wake up.” He told himself. But he felt stupid for doing it now, as it only made Bucky laugh harder.

“Pathetic.” Bucky accused.

“Wake up. Wake up. Wake up wakeup wakeupwakeup.” He was pinching himself. But it wasn’t working.

“You can’t even do this right, can you?” Bucky mocked. He took two steps towards Steve and swung. 

Right as his fist would have made impact, the world flickered back to a peaceful and much welcomed empty blackness. Steve’s last thought was of relief.

* * *

He shot up in his bed as if he’d been doused in cold water. Belatedly, he realized that it felt that way because he had, in fact, been doused in very cold water. There was ice in it. Steve still had a few cubes sitting on his chest. And he was on the couch, not in his bed. He knocked them off, scowling at them as they dropped, and then looked up to see exactly who he’d be killing that morning. His head was currently being split in two, his mouth tasted like he’d been force-fed several rotting sardines coated in garlic. It felt about as pleasant as it sounded.

“I really want to hurt you right now.” He grumbled at Natasha. She looked unfazed.

“I still might.” She snapped at him. “Stay tuned.”

Steve just blinked at her. He realized that she wasn’t dressed in street clothes, but sweats. He’d never seen her less than 100% put together. Hell, she’d literally fought an alien invasion with a full face of makeup and no hair tie. But she was sitting on his coffee table in stained grey sweatpants, an ill-fitting t-shirt, and her hair in a high sloppy bun.

“I don’t know what’s going on.” Steve admitted to her. Her scowl deepened.

“Neither do I.” Natasha held up the two vials. Steve felt his stomach drop.

“Look.” He tried. But Natasha just held up a finger.

“Don’t.” She snapped.

“I didn’t die, if that makes anything better.” Steve suggested. He laid back and let his head rest on the couch cushion. His head hurt too much to withstand the heat of her glare. She launched both of the vials at his face while his eyes were closed, which felt like an unfair advantage. They both smacked him soundly and Steve took the point, sitting up.

“You make remember that I told you we were waiting on Fury’s call.” She crossed her arms. He nodded.

“I do.” He admitted.

“And you said you were fine.” Natasha continued. Steve didn’t like where this was leading.

“I am.” He insisted.

“And so, imagine my surprise, when I show-up for said call and find you unconscious on your own couch.” Natasha did not look amused. Nor particularly surprised. “Well, thank your neighbor for knowing the super’s number because otherwise I was going to have to break down your door.”

It was Steve’s turn to be surprised. “Kate? And isn’t it S.H.I.E.L.D.’s building?”

“You think S.H.I.E.L.D. employs landlords and supers for every property that they own?”

“No?” Steve guessed.

“And even if they did, do you think I’d know who they were or how to reach them at midnight on a Tuesday?” She continued. Steve felt dumb. Of course she wouldn’t. He didn’t even know the super’s number. He’d always just assumed that the whole thing was arranged by S.H.I.E.L.D. and his involvement wouldn’t be necessary. He’d have to find a way to thank Kate for helping Natasha out and, hopefully, not selling the story to the tabloids.

“You’re off this mission.” She told him, standing. Steve shot up.

“Like hell I am.” He protested. Natasha shook her head.

“You want to make the argument to Fury that you’re safe to send out? Because I’ll provide a full report on my professional opinion.” Natasha’s furious scowl told Steve all he needed to know about exactly what that report would contain.

“I am fine.” Steve forced out. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“You’re a wreck.”

“I’m coping.”

“You’re spiraling.” She snapped.

Steve’s jaw snapped shut. Natasha was practically vibrating in her own anger at him. Steve swallowed and looked down at his clothes. They were drenched in sweat and filthy. Natasha must have come in to quite a scene. He shook his head.

“I just want to be Captain America.” Steve told her quietly. “I’m just trying to make sure that I can be.”

Natasha sighed. “You can. Nobody is going to stop you.”

“The whole world is.” Steve shook his head.

“Because you’re a demon.” Natasha’s voice was deadly. Steve sensed the trap in it.

“Because I’m not entirely human.” He said softly. He was broken. Bucky’s voice echoed in his head.

“You’re taking dangerous drugs.” Natasha pointed out.

“I’m out.” Steve held up his hands. It hadn’t worked anyway. Not the way that it had been supposed to. The sting of that and the nightmare combined strengthened his resolve to go without the drug. He’d find another way. He tried not to let that ache as much as it already did. Instead he swallowed and offered a weak smile. “I’m out and I’m not buying anymore. I’m really not. I just. I was trying.”

He stopped and shook his head.

“You have too much shit that you keep to yourself.” She told him. “And that’s coming from me.”

Steve shrugged. She still didn’t even know the half of it. There was a tense moment of a stand-off. She was staring at him and Steve was trying to look as contrite as possible. Whole. Natasha waited a few moments before sighed and shaking her head.

“Tony is taking the results of the test to Fury tomorrow.” She told him. There was a note of finality in her voice. “I already talked to him about it. He’d livid. Said something about secrets and you not supposedly being allowed to have them.”

Steve blushed and looked down at the floor. “Whoops.”

“After this mission.” Steve’s head shot up. Natasha smirked at him. “Which I’m only letting you go on to avoid raising red flags, by the way. Fury’s not telling us what it is, but something is going on within the council. Something’s wrong. But after we get back from this, we’re going to talk. For real. And you’re going on that date.”

“Date?” Steve was confused before the memory returned to him.

“Date.” Natasha confirmed with a sharp nod.

“We’re giving S.H.I.E.L.D. all of the intel. Which will be fine. And we’re getting you a better psychologist because Faustus is just the worst.” Natasha shook her head. Steve nodded but said nothing. Natasha didn’t sound like she was finished. “I know we’re not friends.”

“Natasha.” Steve wanted to protest, even though she wasn’t wrong.

“I know we’re not. But I don’t want you to self-destruct.” She shrugged. “Maybe we need Captain America and maybe we don’t. But I think Steve Rogers is a pretty cool guy.”

Steve just looked down at his shoes. He knew which of those two he was. And which one died a long time ago. The other…the other might be carrying a weight Steve just wasn’t strong enough to carry alone. Not anymore. Not without Bucky.

“Get showered. Get changed.” Natasha shoved him away. “We’ve got three hours.”

Steve nodded blankly. “Three hours?”

“Somewhere between that and twelve. I bought time from Fury. I need to get showered myself.” She seemed concerned for a moment but nodded. “Just pack a bag. I’ll text you when it’s time to go.”

Steve nodded. He was too grateful to do anything else.

He couldn’t maintain his own weight and as soon as Natasha left, Steve collapsed back on the couch.

There was an aching hole in his chest. And the drug in his veins was still sending a buzz of electricity through his skin. He felt simultaneously wired and lethargic. Sitting still was agonizing but his limbs didn’t want to move and drove him to be sedentary. But he was stronger than that. So he only gave himself ten minute before forcing his way off of the couch and in to the bedroom.

He’d go for a run. The sun was almost up. He’d go run. He’d get some of the pent up energy out.

And then he’d be Captain America again. On his own. Somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece is for the Captain America Reverse Big Bang and is inspired by this artwork by Chaosdraws:  
> 


	15. Sweet Dreams are Made of These

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr)

Bucky was on his floor when he walked back in to his room. All Steve could think was that this meant that the serum had worked after all. It took him forcing those thoughts to the side for him to process the bloom of purple on Bucky’s cheek. And the way he was cowering in to the corner. 

For a moment he worried that this was another dream.

Bucky’s hair wasn’t pulled back. He was cowering, terrified, and an exhausted look on his face.

This was not a dream.  

Bucky wasn’t running away from him. 

Steve practically collapsed on to the floor next to where Bucky was sitting. For a long moment, he said nothing. He didn’t want to startle Bucky, who clearly hadn’t noticed his presence in the room, because he seemed a little worse for wear. Steve had to physically sit on his hands to keep from reaching for him. It went against his instincts to keep his distance. 

“Do you remember that summer you hurt your back and couldn’t work?” Bucky asked him. 

Steve nodded and then belatedly remembered to speak. “Yeah.” 

“You wrote stories all day to keep yourself entertained. And you drew.” Bucky smiled to himself. 

“I was trying to sell them to the papers.” Steve laughed. “But they were awful and I was naïve.” 

Bucky didn’t laugh but his mouth twitched in to another small smile. 

“I kept some of them.” Bucky admitted. “I don’t know where. But I remember keeping them in a tin.” 

Steve smiled. “I had no idea.” 

Well, clearly, he had. He was reminding himself about them. He remembered the exhibit at the Smithsonian and the collection of his artwork that they’d mysteriously procured. Steve hadn’t understood how at the time, and thought the newspaper might have done it. He shook his head. 

“I think they’re in the museum.” He admitted to Bucky. 

“Museum?” He whistled. “Steve, I loved them but I’m no expert. I don’t think they’d have put them in-” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “There’s an exhibit. About me. And I think I saw them there.” 

“Did you really?” Bucky looked over at him for the first time, he looked tired. Weak. Steve strained against the self-imposed distance. “Must be one boring exhibit.” 

Steve laughed. “Shut up, jerk.” 

“Idiot.” Bucky grumbled. 

There was a silence. Bucky didn’t move, staying preternaturally still. Steve didn’t want to scare him but there was a crick in his back that threatened to make him collapse if he didn’t shift the weight off of it. He did so slowly, and watched as Bucky tensed the moment he moved. When he settled in to a new position that was no closer, Bucky relaxed slightly. Steve stared at him. He was watching Steve as if he was a wild animal- eyes alert, nervous, and darting around the room with his whole body ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. Steve wondered what his lucid but jagged demeanor said about the state of his own mind. Probably nothing good. His delusions spoke volumes. 

“I missed you.” Steve admitted to Bucky's ghost. “I was afraid I was never going to see you again.” 

Bucky smiled. “I’m not really here, remember?” 

“I know.” Steve nodded. But tears pricked behind his eyes. “I just wish that you were.” 

“I don’t.” Bucky told him, sounding serious. Steve’s stomach dropped. Maybe he was dreaming again. 

“Why not?” Steve asked hesitantly. 

“If this is real, it hurts too much.” Bucky told him, shaking his head. He looked at Steve and offered a weak shrug in his direction. “I’d rather be your delusion and let none of this be real.” 

Steve stared at his hands. “I’d rather have the pain and make you real.” 

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked him. Steve squeezed his eyes shut. 

“It’s not like I have a choice.” Steve grumbled. He watched, mourning silently to himself, as Bucky flickered back out of existence. The serum fading. Steve wiped at his tears, stood up, and moved to get ready for his run. 

* * *

 

The serum had worked and, as far as Steve was concerned, he was back to where he should be. He had taken too much and he was feeling the after effects of that, sure. He was tired. Sore. Emotionally drained and raw. The serum let him feel normal but taking too much of it had sent his system in to overdrive. Like his entire system was ramped up to 11. Even as he started running, his body was pushing him to go faster. His pace wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t fast enough. Wasn’t punishing enough. It felt like he was running through water or sand instead of the streets of DC. 

But this was manageable if he did it right. He could convince Natasha and Tony he was better off on it than not. He just had to prove to them that it made him more human.

Steve’s run was late for him, but still early enough in the day that the sky was tinged with a vibrant red. He’d wanted to do a few loops but instead did his routine in reverse. He set out from his apartment and turned right to continue down Massachusetts Avenue. When he reached his usual bench, Steve bent as if he needed to tie his shoe, checking to subtly to see if there was anything underneath it. There was. A small paper package was somewhat weathered but still securely tied in to place. 

Moving quickly, Steve yanked it from its place. He pretended to be shifting to sit on the bench and managed it in one fluid motion. Once he had the package in his hand it was as simple as pulling his small black notebook out of his pocket, pretending to consider it for a second, and replacing it with the package securely tucked behind it. 

There were more people waiting around because of the later time, and so Steve waited another minute or two before standing and continuing along his route. He tried to stick to as much of his usual run as possible, just backwards. As if he was running it in reverse. He tracked down the greenspaces towards the Mall and then along the monuments towards the reservoir. His body was screaming at him again.  _Fast faster_ _faster_ _faster_ _._ So Steve pushed. Even when his calves felt like they were burning. It was a punishing pace even for Steve with his super serum and heightened abilities to maintain.  

He blew past a younger guy in grey sweats. 

“On your left.” He mumbled. The man gave a small wave but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him.  

And then he blew past him again. Steve hadn’t realized quite how fast he was running. 

“On your left.” He said again. This time the man did a double-take. Steve heard him swear. 

Steve had to laugh to himself. But he didn’t slow down. And instead of turning to loop the mall, as he usually would at that point, Steve altered his course and looped the reservoir again. He tracked the progress of the other man out of the corner of his eyes, noting that his pace wouldn’t be pitiful compared to any else but him. He was actually maintaining a respectable pace.  

Which didn’t stop Steve from blowing past him again, laughing when the man was visibly (and audibly) irritated at Steve passing him for a third time. It was hilarious to him and so Steve went to loop a fourth time instead of continuing his route. His legs pushed him to an even faster pace, feeding off of Steve’s amusement. As he came up close again he heard the man cussing.  

“Don’t say it.” The man warned. “Don’t you say it.” 

Steve was maybe a little too far back to call “On your left.” 

“Come on.” The runner shouted after him. Steve laughed at himself. 

But he did it anyway, too amused to wait. The main started sprinting. Steve blew right past him anyway. They’d made it to the Lincoln Memorial now and Steve was running late. He knew Natasha was going to be coming for him soon. So he turned and continued down the reflecting pool towards the main portion of the Mall. He’d have time to make it back to his apartment if he ran the whole way. His legs wanted him to do it, pushing him to go further and faster. But Steve found himself looping the mall instead of heading back towards Dupont Circle. 

The other runner also came up the mall. He actually made it all the way to the last block before the Capitol Building before collapsing on to the ground underneath a tree. 

Steve didn’t mean to stare and when he caught himself doing just that he scoffed at himself, purposely turning away for a moment. Then, he approached the man with a smile as natural as he could force it. The runner was breathing pretty heavily and Steve didn’t miss the somewhat jealous glance he shot at Steve as he walked over. Steve’s smile only got wider. 

“Need a medic?” He asked. The man laughed and flashed Steve a wide smile. It hit Steve like a punch. 

“I need a new set of lungs.” He groaned. “Dude, you just ran, like, 13 miles in 30 minutes.”  

Steve shrugged casually just to rile the man up more. “I guess a got a late start.”  

“Really?” He laughed. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap.” He paused and stared at Steve, who hadn’t moved an inch. “Did you take it? I assume you just took it.”  

Steve’s mind wasn’t quite working. He had no response. Instead he pointed at the sweatshirt he was wearing that had a military emblem on it. It was Army, clearly, but it was also a way to keep the conversation moving without requiring Steve to think of a witty response. “What unit you with?”  

“58th pararescue.” He nodded. “But now I work down at the VA.”  

And he was out of intelligent responses already. Steve’s stomach was in knots. Natasha said to form relationships, and Steve needed to do that to manage their anger at the AVX. Steve fished for something to say so that he could count the conversation as a success. He managed a short nod but nothing else. The other runner was still breathing a little heavily and had a hand to his chest. He lifted it and gestured for Steve to help him up. Steve did so easily. 

“Sam Wilson.” He introduced himself.   

“Steve Rogers.”   

 “I kind of put that together.” He laughed at Steve. He waited only a beat before adding, “Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing.”   

It was like a bucket of cold water. The easy warmth Steve had been riding since seeing Bucky caved in on itself under the weight of Steve’s least favorite topic. He’d learned to disguise it well. He’d been hit with the same blow enough to come up with some canned responses he could give to quickly change the topic or exit the conversation. He sighed. “It takes some getting used to. It’s good to meet you. Sam.  

He’d turned to walk away when Sam called after him. “It’s your bed, right?”   

Steve hesitated before turning. Steve knew what Sam meant. His bed was still hard to sleep in some nights. Probably not for the reasons this guy was thinking. Dead best friends didn’t haunt just anybody. To buy himself some time to react, Steve pretended not to hear him. “What’s that?”   

“Your bed, it’s too soft.” Sam nodded. “When I was over there, I’d sleep on the ground. Use rocks for pillows, like a caveman. Now I’m home, lying in my bed, and it’s like…”  

Steve knew. “Lying on a marshmallow. Feel like I’m gonna sink right to the floor.”  

Sam nodded at him.

Steve considered him for a moment before asking. “How long?” 

“Two tours.” Sam admitted. “You must miss the good old days, huh?”

Another awkward pause. No, the ‘good old days’ hadn’t been particularly kind to him. Not that the new days had been all that kinder. Steve reached for his usual response to that kind of question. “Well, things aren’t so bad. Food’s a lot better. We used to boil everything. No polio is good. Internet, so helpful. I’ve been reading that a lot to catch up.” 

Sam grinned. Steve knew that look too. “Marvin Gaye. 1972. Troubleman soundtrack. Everything you missed jammed into one album.”

He nodded and pulled out his little black book- careful to only grab the book. “I’ll add it to the list.”  

His phone chimed and Steve pulled it out. He had a message from Natasha, reminding him he had some place he needed to be. It didn’t list sender over the S.H.I.E.L.D. secure server but Steve took one look at the message and knew that Natasha had sent it.   

Mission Alert:  

_Extraction imminent._  

_Meet at the curb. :-)_  

“Alright, Sam. Duty calls. Thanks for the run.” Steve looked up, embarrassed. But Sam just nodded. Despite the awkward moments, Steve was genuinely disappointed to be leaving. He liked joking with him. An actual non-S.H.I.E.L.D. person in the 21st century. This was, he knew, what Natasha had been encouraging by telling him to get back in to the world.  

He smirked at Sam as they shook hands. “If that’s what you want to call running.”  

“Oh.” Sam gave him a shocked but amused look. “That’s how it is?”  

“Oh, that’s how it is.” Steve grinned and started to walk to the curb.  

“Any time you want to stop by the VA, make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know.” Sam called after him. Steve laughed.   

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Steve raised a rand to wave as Natasha’s flashy car pulled up the curb.   

Steve did not miss the look of appreciation in Sam’s eye as the tiny blue sports car pulled up and Natasha rolled down her window. He actually stooped lower to get a better view. Steve pretended he wasn’t disappointed in the clear interest Sam had for her as he shut the door behind him.  

“Can’t run everywhere.” He smiled back at Sam.   

“No, you can’t.” Sam laughed. Natasha yanked away from the curb and onto the street.  

“Who was that?” She asked him. Steve shook his head.

“Nobody.” He shrugged. “Just met him while running.”

Natasha checked her mirror. “Well, nobody is watching us drive away all sad-like."

"Is he?" Steve looked at the side-view mirror but couldn’t see anything. 

"Taking a proactive approach to our demands?" Natasha asked jokingly. She’d pegged him in one>

“Getting back in to the world.” Steve quipped. But his tone lacked the light, joking edge of Natasha’s. 

* * *

 

Steve’s mood hadn’t improved by the time that they got to the hanger to meet Strike Team. Natasha, to her credit, also seemed to either by reading the mood or in one of her own. The large part of their drive had been quiet. Steve was focusing on ignoring the pounding in his head and pretending there wasn’t a package in his pocket that would obliterate his position with S.H.I.E.L.D. and lose him his only remaining allies. The absolutely ridiculous nature of the situation did not escape him. 

He thought about Bucky, laughing with him on his bedroom floor. It strengthened his resolve. 

“What’s the op?” Steve asked, grabbing his go bag and uniform from the flight deck locker. 

“Classified.” She shrugged. “Going in dark. You know how Fury does things.”   

Unfortunately, he did. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah.” Natasha agreed with a shrug. 

“Where are we going?” He asked. Sometimes he could get at least that much.

“Also classified.” She shrugged again and hoisted the bag onto her shoulder and headed towards the plane that was waiting for them. Steve went to protest but Natasha just smiled at him. “The difference between us, Rogers, is that I don’t ask questions.”

It was another lighthearted quip that given their past twenty-four hours fell incredibly flat.

“Fury needs to give me something or I’m not going on that plane.” Steve told her. She stopped.

“Seriously?” She asked.   

 “You know as well as I do that Fury uses us like his personal security force. And maybe it’s because I’ve been forced to think big picture-” Natasha levied Steve with a look that he roundly ignored “-and I’m just not very fond of the way Nick Fury does business.”  

Natasha pursed her lips. “He’s always done the right thing.”   

“Things have always turned out right.” Steve corrected “That is not the same thing.”   

Natasha rolled her eyes. “After everything about needing to be Captain America.” 

“I do. And part of that is doing things the right way. You said that yourself.” Steve nodded at her. Natasha turned to an agent by her side, giving Steve a tense glare. This argument wasn’t over, but she wasn’t going to fight with him about it right then.

“Get me the briefing packet. Tell Rumlow that we will be doing the initial brief on the ground.”   

As if summoned, Rumlow came down the plane’s gangway with papers in hand. “Rogers!”

“What is it?” Steve took the files from Rumlow and flipped through the first pages. It was half redacted. 

“Some lovely lady got lost on the sea. It was taken by pirates in the middle of the Indian Ocean and they need us to intervene and bring her home safely again.” Rumlow explained, flipping from page to page. “She’s a privately owned launch ship with payloads being sent to the International Space Station. There are hostages and the launch window is small. Time is of the essence.”   

“The mission is to retrieve the payloads?” Steve assumed. His standard for Fury weren’t high.   

“Your mission is to get everyone off the ship alive.” Rumlow told him. 

“Sounds pretty heroic, Cap.” Natasha said. There was a grin but no warmth in her voice. 

Steve just nodded and turned back to the plane. This was the most heroic job Fury had put him on since New York. The cleanest cut. Steve didn’t think it was a coincidence that it came now. But he was also always told to never look a gift horse in its mouth. So he took the file from Rumlow and walked on board the plane with his bag.  

Rumlow and Natasha followed him and they were airborne in less than fifteen minutes. Strike Team had already been seated and waiting for them to arrive. Steve was uneasy with the way some of them were openly staring at him. He hadn’t noticed them doing that to him before. Like Sid and MacLeod, they tried to only do it when he was otherwise occupied. Steve made them uncomfortable. Well, that went both ways. He shifted uncomfortably. When they were twenty minutes out he asked Rumlow for the full brief.   

“Target is mobile satellite launch platform, the Lemurian Star.” Rumlow told them. Steve had gotten most of this from the packet but watched as the screen outlined their target and approach. “They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them. 93 minutes ago.”   

Steve shook his head. “Any demands?”   

“A billion and a half.” Rumlow answered, turning to look at him. Steve’s eyes bugged slightly.   

“Why so steep?” He asked. There was a collective pause amongst the crew waiting for Rumlow. 

“Because it’s S.H.I.E.L.D.’s.” He said simply. 

“So it’s not off-course.” Steve rolled his eyes and fought a snarky remark. “It’s trespassing.” 

Natasha caught his look but kept staring at the screen. “I’m sure they have a good reason.”  

“You _know_ I’m getting a little tired of being Fury’s janitor.” Steve told her. She sighed. 

“Relax. It’s not that complicated.”  Natasha was still focused and barely registering that Steve was talking to her. He recognized that she was probably barely listening to him. When she focused on an assignment very little else got in. Steve turned back to Rumlow. 

 “How many pirates?” He asked.   

“25.” Steve winced as Rumlow pulled up some information onto the screen. “Top mercs led by this guy. Georges Batroc. Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He’s at the top of Interpol’s Red Notice. Before the French de-mobilized him he had 36 kill missions. This guy’s got a rep for maximum casualties.”   

“Hostages?” Steve needed to know who was at risk.   

“Oh, mostly techs.” Rumlow didn’t seem concerned about them at all. “One officer, Jasper Sitwell They’re in the galley.”  

“What’s Sitwell doing on a launch ship?” Steve was confused. Nobody answered him. He pushed it aside and moved to giving his instructions for the team. He had his orders. Get the innocent people out. It was more satisfying feeling than being ordered to follow Strike Team into yet another grey area. Though it was clear S.H.I.E.L.D. mostly operated in grey areas.   

They separated, getting ready for the drop. Steve yanked on his cowl, mildly frustrated by the way he could feel Natasha watching him. He turned and found her watching him intently, but with an amused smirk. She was going to try and lighten the mood, he assumed. Strategically. Couldn’t have Captain America dropping in on a mission in a foul mood. 

“So, if you’re not going out with that Mr. Nobody from earlier.” Natasha quipped. “I have some suggestions for you.” 

Steve rolled his eyes but laughed. “I don’t need any suggestions.”

“Mr. Nobody it is?” She asked, arching an eyebrow.

Steve ignored her and instead went to pull on his gear.

“You know if you ask Kristen out from statistics, she’d probably say yes.” Nat told him.  

“That’s why I don’t ask.” Steve shot back. Nat scoffed at him.

“Too shy or too scared?” She challenged. Steve just grinned. It wasn’t a challenge, not really, it was another fake thing she was using to achieve her goal. Instead of being offended he just grinned. The catwalk to the plane was down and he walked straight up to the edge. 

“Too busy.” He called back. He gave a short salute and leapt from the plane. 

* * *

 

“That’s my bad.” Natasha admitted, wincing against the cabinet. Steve shot up.  They'd just been blasted through a window because she was focused on retrieving data instead of saving the hostages. It was so far  _past_ just being her bad that Steve could barely form the words to respond.

“You’re damn right.” He snapped at her. 

He could feel the temper flaring in his chest. But it was tempered. The serum having worn off meant that it felt almost like wall was built between him and the emotions. He watched the fury rage on the other side of screen where the heat didn’t burn him. It just churned in his gut and made him feel nauseous. She didn’t follow him and Steve worked his way to the top deck slowly, thoroughly clearing each room until he reached the open deck where Strike Team had gathered the hostages. 

“Good work, Captain.” Rumlow told him with a nod. He was smirking. “Didn’t leave much for us.” 

Steve shrugged. “Just the important parts. Any hostages unaccounted for?” 

He was, maybe, a little bitter that he hadn’t had anything directly to do with their rescue. 

“None. All here, minor bumps and scrapes but no injuries.” Rumlow reported. 

“Load ‘em up and let’s get out.” Steve instructed. 

“They’re going to be staying, Cap.” Sid told him, looking between Steve and Rumlow nervously. 

“What?” Steve was confused. 

“Jobs not done.” Rumlow shrugged. Steve looked at the tired, scared faces of the crew and wanted to fight with him but then the lone man in their group wearing a three-piece suit stepped forward and held out his hand to Steve. His entire demeanor was pompous and annoying. 

“I’m Jasper Sitwell, I was overseeing this operation.” He waited for Steve to take his hand. Steve didn’t. 

“I think your crew needs to be replaced.” Steve told him. “Is there a relief crew that can be brought in?” 

Sitwell finally dropped his hand. “They’ll be fine. It would take weeks to relieve them.” 

They all appeared to disagree with him, but nobody said anything. Steve shook his head and turned to walk away without saying anything else. That fire of rage was starting to eat through the wall that his lack of serum usually kept at bay. Steve swallowed it even as it burned his throat. This wasn’t the mission he’d wanted it to be. More lies, more secrets, more agendas. 

Steve made sure he was the last one on to the helo that unloaded them from the ship. When Sitwell climbed on, Steve regarded him with an open contempt that made the other man flinch. Steve’s temper was flaring against that thin divide and as much of a relief it was to actually feel something through the dampened haze of no serum, Steve didn’t like the way this temper pitched and rolled. 

“You’d think it was his first mission.” He heard someone quip from inside the helicopter.  

“Not like S.H.I.E.L.D. is all sunshine, rainbows, and alien invasions.” Another agreed. 

“Some people just need to feel superior to everyone else.” The first man shot back. There was obviously derision in his voice. “Like he hasn’t had to wade through the same piles of shit the rest of us have.” 

His friend snorted. “He’s usually the first into the pile.” 

“It’s the serum, I guess.” It was followed by a snort. “Makes him think he’s better than us.” 

“Better than human.” The other added. It was followed with a scoff and laughter. 

If human was what this was, maybe being better than it was what Steve should be aiming for. 

* * *

 

He didn’t want to be so dramatic as to admit that he left the Triskelion in a huff, but he did. The anger raced through his veins and was only tempered now by the small dose of serum that he’d let himself have. But he’d needed it before he talked to Fury. He couldn’t have gotten through the conversation without it and if he’d walked into that hanger without some sort of buffer…. 

Steve didn’t want to think about what his reaction would have been like. 

He left on his bike, wanting something that felt familiar to him to take the afternoon to himself. He needed to think. For the first time since he reached the 21st century, Steve felt like his mission was a mistake. Regardless of Human or Demon, how could Steve serve S.H.I.E.L.D. as Captain America at all? There was a legacy to maintain, definitely, but didn’t that cut both ways? Steve had fought every instinct within himself to be worthy of carrying that shield. But S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t want the shield, not really, they wanted the trust and power that came with it. They wanted the symbol, not the responsibility.

Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t the right place for Captain America. 

Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t the right place for Steve to be either. 

Instead of heading home, Steve went to the museum. Maybe it was a little self-indulgent. It was certainly influenced by his afternoon. But he hadn’t been back since Tony had shown it to him years before. He figured not much of it was going to have changed. Instead, Steve walked in to an exhibit had had been entirely renovated. At least updated to include a lot more current information. And flashy color-saturated pictures and video displays. Steve just stared at it, shoulders hunched to avoid drawing attention. He really didn’t need some grainy cell phone photo of himself in his exhibit popping up on the internet. 

“The story of Captain America is one of honor, bravery and sacrifice.” The voice narrated.    

_Sacrifice, yes._  Steve reasoned the other two had him more uncomfortable. Especially recently.

“Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him into the world’s first super soldier.” As the voice spoke, Steve tried to not listen. It was uncomfortable.  

Steve caught the eye of a little boy in a shirt with the image of his shield on it. He was staring at Steve in open wonder, clearly on the verge of freaking out. Steve lifted his hand and put a single finger to his lips to signal the boy to be quiet. He nodded at Steve a few times and watched as Steve walked to the next area of the display. He felt the yank on his sweatshirt and looked down.   

“My brother says you’re Steve Rogers.” The little girl was about six and facing him indignantly.   

“What do you say?” Steve asked. He looked behind her where the same little boy was staring. 

“You’re too small.” She said with a huff. 

“What?” Steve cracked a grin and laughed a little bit.

“Captain America is big and strong.” She insisted firmly. “That’s how he gets the bad guys.” 

“By being big?” Steve raised an eyebrow at her. 

“He’s gots the muscles. He hits them.” She said in a conspiratorial whisper. She looked to see if anyone else- specifically, any adult- was listening before continuing. “Mama says we’re not supposed to hit people. But Cap’n, he does it to keep us safe so Daddy says that it’s ok.”

“Well, I’m glad he approves.” Steve smiled down at her. He really should say something about non-violence. But she looked so confident in what she was saying. She crossed her arms and huffed. 

“He keeps the monsters away. Daddy says that’s why they’re not under my bed anymore.” 

“That sounds like a big job.” Steve laughed. 

“You’re not him.” She said again, shaking her head and sending her pigtails swinging.  

“Can I tell you a secret?” Steve asked. 

“Mama says that we don’t keep secrets.” She pursed her lips. “But ok. I won’t tell her.”

Steve took a knee and pulled out his S.H.I.E.L.D. identification card. “I am him.” 

She took in the card with an air of skepticism, studying it intently for second long seconds.

“I can’t read.”  She said finally.

“I’m him.” Steve assured her. He tucked the card back into his pocket. She let out an excited squeal and went rushing over to her brother. Steve took the opportunity to disappear into the crowd, following it into the next room where a replica of his bike was on display as well as a timeline of his years with the Howling Commandos. They even had uniforms. 

He turned and for a moment didn’t comprehend why Bucky was staring back at him. An old version of him, not like the one his bedroom. It was like the nightmare from the night before had come back to haunt him. But then Steve recognized the display from his first visit. He didn’t read it again but stared at the picture and wished they’d chosen one of him smiling. Or at least less stern. Steve could literally see the anxious twitch in his jaw that Bucky always got when he frowned like that. The video screen behind him ran through some of the war reels they were in together. One was of the two of them laughing, Bucky doubling over in giggles. Steve looked between the video and stern photo they’d chosen for the display. Neither felt right. Too far in to extremes. 

He side-stepped the room that outlined the various men who wore his mantle after he went under the ice. Steve hadn’t wanted that to be a burden anyone else carried. It was heavy enough for him with his extra strength. Instead, he headed into the theater. He was drawn in by the sound of Peggy’s voice and settled onto a small bench to watch her. It was clearly taken a few decades after the war. Peggy was older, maybe just past middle aged. She looked gorgeous. 

Steve realized it had been months since he’d gone to see her. 

“That was a difficult winter.” Peggy told the camera. “A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve- Captain Rogers- he fought his way through a Hydra blockade that had pinned our allies down for months. He saved over 1,000 men. Including the man who would become my husband, as it turned out. Even after he died, Steve was changing my life.”  

Steve had the compass with her picture in his hands. He looked between the picture he’d cut out of the paper so long ago and the older woman in the video. Neither matched the woman in the nursing home. Steve sighed and snapped the locket closed. So many things that just didn’t line up the way that they should. It made reality feel tilted. Steve went to leave as the video ended. 

“Excuse me.” The woman on the bench next to him waved to get his attention. 

“Ma’am.” Steve nodded to her. She was grinning nervously. Her daughter looked embarrassed.  

“You probably get this all the time. But you look just like Captain America.” She was almost bouncing with the excitement. Steve just smiled.  

“I do.” Steve laughed. She turned with her daughter, who was mortified.   

“You’re not…are you?” She asked. Her daughter groaned loudly.  

“Mom.” She whined. “You are so embarrassing.”  

Steve laughed to himself as the girl drug her mom out of the room, ranting quietly about her being embarrassing to be around. It was kind of amusing to watch. The video started over. The intro said it also had clips from Morita and Gabe and Dugan. Dugan’s interview came first. And Steve found himself settling back onto the bench to watch. His hair had started greying and his stomach was partially visible and much larger than when Steve had known him. Even as the interview opened, Dugan looked emotional and his complexion was ruddy. Like he’d already been crying. 

“Here’s the thing.” Dugan said gruffly, clearing his throat. Even though it was grey, he still had the mustache. “The man you know as Captain America, I know as Steve Rogers. And those are both good men, but they are not the same man. Far as I’m concerned, they’re both heroes.”  

He paused and Steve considered what he’d said for a moment. Dugan used the break to wipe his cheeks. 

“I never once heard him refer to himself as Captain America in a serious way. It wasn’t to him. I mean, the role did. What Cap could do did. But it was just a way to do the right thing. That’s what mattered to him. And that’s what mattered to the rest of us Howling Commandos too. Not the shield. We just followed Steve Rogers. Because Rogers was going to do the right thing.”

Steve had to stand and leave the room as more people came in. Too many chances for someone else to notice him. He pulled his hat down further over his eyes and walked out of the exhibit quickly without looking back. He was at his bike pulling his helmet over his head when he released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. For a moment he just sat on his bike and leaned against the handles with his eyes squeezed shut. Dugan was right. He’d always seen Steve Rogers and Captain America as two different people. And they were, as far as Steve was concerned.

But maybe he’d been focusing on keeping the wrong one of them alive. And now it was too late.

Maybe Steve Rogers  _was_  weak and  _was_  broken. But at least Steve Rogers stood for something.

Steve would rather mean something honest than have all the empty power S.H.I.E.L.D. could offer.

He felt the fire burning up the back of his skull and pulled out the vial to take some more of the serum. Steve knew where he had to go next and it was going to sting. There was no choice to be made about Captain America without first talking to Peggy. And for that, he was going to need all of the strength he could muster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> And we're in to the final week! I can't thank you guys enough for reading this far and sticking with me the past couple weeks. Hopefully you're enjoying it.


	16. Shot Through the Heart (And You're to Blame)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr)

Peggy had forgotten. 

That was, Steve knew, the main cause for the way his head pounded and his stomach ached. She’d had lapses in memory. The nurses had told him that she had dementia and that it wasn’t going to get better. But she’d never looked at him and saw someone else. She’d always seen Steve for who he really was. It was her unwavering faith in him that carried him through some rough years.

She hadn’t wanted Steve to stay after the nurses calmed her down. Embarrassed, Steve assumed. Either way, he’d driven back to his apartment in a sulk that didn’t feel like it was lifting any time soon. Except that the apartment had been empty and lonely and Steve had found himself thinking about the invitation he’d received to go to VA office. Now it was evening, starting to get dark, and the entire world seemed like it was winding down aside from Steve.

He rolled his shoulders and reached back to massage the tension out of his neck. Even know, Steve still felt the occasional tweak of pain in his back that had him scared enough to cause cold sweats. He wouldn’t calm down until he inspected his back in the mirror and saw that nothing was growing from it. There’d been nothing since he’d started taking the serum, but that type of fear didn’t just disappear overnight.

And now Steve was outside the building and pacing like an absolute lunatic. He couldn’t get himself to go inside. Every turn he’d made so far that day had led to him having this thick dark cloud wrapped around him. He didn’t want it to get worse. And there were people in there suffering. Veterans who’d fought and lost things both emotionally and physically fighting for the same things Steve had. Also, Sam Wilson.

“You can do this.” He told himself with a nod.  

“You’re Captain fucking America.” He paced. “You’re not going to be defeated by a damn door.” 

And yet, here he was staring at a closed door as if it were guarding Fort Knox and rigged to explode if opened. Steve had been standing outside of it for the past ten minutes trying to work up the courage to get inside.  

It hadn’t helped matters that Steve had gone to four  _wrong_  Veteran’s Affairs offices before being directed to this one. And being assured that, yes, this was location for veteran’s counseling. It was probably going to end up on the nightly news that Captain America was searching for a PTSD group. He shouldn’t be ashamed of that but Steve felt the embarrassment in his stomach. He was ashamed of his own embarrassment. He was embracing his own faults now, wasn’t he?

That, at least, drove him through the front door and down the main hall. He looked for the front desk but didn’t see one. There was a directory on the wall of different meetings, but none of them listed who led them and there was no place to sign in. Instead, Steve wandered aimlessly.  

The door to the last room on the hallway was open. Steve heard a woman speaking softly and wandered towards it, leaning against the doorframe instead of actually walking into the room. He noticed that people saw him but none made a commotion about his appearance. He felt normal.  

“I swerved to hit a plastic bag.” The woman said sadly. “I thought it was an IED.” 

Steve had hardly registered Sam at the front of the room. Steve was watching the woman, who had lowered her head to stare at her hands. He didn’t try to commiserate but instead addressed the whole group. “Some stuff you leave there. Other stuff you bring back. It’s our job to figure out how to carry it. Is it gonna be in a big suitcase? Or a little man purse? It’s up to you.” 

Steve looked at the floor. He knew he had baggage. He had a literal trunk in his living room. 

“How do we let go of the bags?” The woman asked him. “I don’t want them.” 

“We can’t.” Sam shrugged. “Our baggage can only be made lighter. It’s a part of who we are and it doesn’t make us weak. It’s strength to carry on what other people can’t. To come to meetings every week even when we don’t want to. To ask for help, even when it’s hard.” 

The woman laughed and nodded. Sam continued. “Even when you feel like you don’t belong.” 

“It’s not easy to speak up when we’ve been trained not to.” One of the men admitted.  

“And that’s why we have to.” Sam insisted. “Because we can only end the stigma surrounding depression and PTSD by being open about our struggled and talking with each other. Our greatest asset is the community that the military gave us. We have a built in support system of people who are here to help us carry what we can’t on our own. Even the strongest of us need help sometimes.” 

Steve ignored the quick but pointed look in his direction. The group laughed quietly.  

He stepped backwards, not wanting to distract the group. A few others shared and Steve listened from the hallway. He could just barely see Sam from where he was sitting. They ended their group meeting about ten minutes later while Steve was still standing in the hallway listening and staring at the paintings. Sam came out of the room last, talking quietly with the woman who’d been sharing when Steve arrived. 

“Look who it is.” Sam smiled when he saw him. “The running man.”  

Steve stood next to the small table Sam was collecting stacks of pamphlets from. He nodded approvingly and leaned against the wall in what he hoped came across as a casual gesture. “Caught the last few minutes. It’s pretty intense.”  

Sam didn’t even look up at him. “Yeah, brother. We all got the same problems. Guilt. Regret.” 

“You lose someone?” Steve asked. The way Sam had looked to the side felt familiar.  

“My wingman. Riley.” Sam nodded. He took a breath and kept talking. “Flying a night mission. Standard PJ rescue op. Nothing we hadn’t done a thousand times before. Until an RPG knock Riley’s dumb ass out of the sky. Nothing I could do. It’s like I was up there just to watch.” 

Steve swallowed. In his head he saw the train. Saw Bucky falling. “I’m sorry.” 

“After that I had a really hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know?” Sam seemed uncertain. Steve did understand. Except ‘over there’ was here. With S.H.I.E.L.D. here in 2014. He winced and looked away.  

“But you’re happy now? Back in the world?” Steve asked. Sam gave a light laugh and

“The number of people giving me orders is down to about zero. So, hell yeah.” He paused and regarded Steve’s serious expression. “Are you thinking about getting out?”  

“No.” Steve said quickly. The conversation had taken a more serious turn than he’d anticipated when he’d decided to come see Sam. He hesitated and shrugged before looking up at Sam with an unsure grin. “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I did.” 

“Ultimate fighting?” Sam suggested. He laughed. “Just a great idea off the top of my head.” 

Steve wasn’t look towards Sam. He was the first person not to start trying to sell him on staying. 

“Seriously, you could do whatever you want to do.” Sam insisted. Steve looked at him but then away again. He was having trouble not blushing bright red. “What makes you happy?”  

Steve didn’t have an answer for that. He wanted to be funny but couldn’t. “I don’t know.” 

“Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to find out?” Sam challenged.  

“I don’t know.” Steve said again. He felt dumb because he was at a loss for words.  

“I think you do.” Sam nodded. He paused for a second. “And you don’t have to choose the same things you did in the 1940s either. You know, the world is a different place. It’s not what it was then. You have…options.” 

Steve glanced at Sam and raised an eyebrow. “Options.”  

Sam just laughed, and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. Options.” 

There was a moment where Steve physically couldn’t get himself to speak. Sam stared at him as Steve opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before just snapping it shut. Nothing he said was going to be the right move here. He cleared his throat and looked away until Sam finally took some pity on him and they started walking towards the exit together. 

“Are you running tomorrow?” Sam asked him.  

Steve was still embarrassed and stared back at him flustered. He fumbled for words. “Maybe?”  

“How about breakfast after? I’ll cook you something at my place.” Sam grinned, he raised an eyebrow and Steve blushed. The implication there was much more blatant. Steve fought back a decidedly unmanly giggle and tried to respond confidently. He failed. 

“Um.” Steve’s face went red and he rubbed a hand through his hair.

“You do eat breakfast, don’t you?” Sam asked. He was laughing now, crossing his arms across his chest.  

Steve let out a series of mumbles that barely constituted speech. Sam just laughed harder. 

“I honestly don’t know whether to take that as a yes or no.” Sam told him.  

Steve didn’t know if he felt that the janitor coming in was a blessing or curse. It felt like both simultaneously. He whistled loudly as he made his way down the hall with his mop, and Steve hurried to get out of his way. It gave him an excuse not to make eye contact with Sam. Sam, to his merit, followed Steve as he moved and ignored the blush that was steadily reaching concerning levels.  

“It could be just breakfast.” Sam said with a grin. “Promise.”  

Steve nodded back and looked towards his bike. “I might just take you up on that offer.” 

“Which one?” Sam asked. Then he laughed when Steve floundered for a response.

Gathering almost every ounce of his resolve, Steve forced himself to smirk. “Maybe both.”  

It was Sam’s turn to fight a surprised laugh. He pulled out a piece of paper. “Well, here. It’s my number. I’m assuming they’ve taught you how to use a phone? You know that thing with numbers. You can contact people with over far distances. It’s great.” 

Steve laughed. “They had phones in 1940.” 

“Good.” Sam nodded, smiling at him. “Then you’ll have no problem using it to call me.”

“Um.” Steve felt like he was being outpaced and also like it was absolutely intentionally.

“You know, I thought that you had a better vocabulary.” Sam teased him.

Sam was still smiling at him, entirely too confident for the situation, which was why Steve was ninety percent sure the other man was doing this intentionally to make him as absolutely uncomfortable as possible. The conversation absolutely would have devolved from there but there was a bang at the door and the sound of slamming shut. Both Sam and Steve turned towards the noise and their conversation stopped in it’s tracks. More, actually. It was derailed entirely by the appearance of two large fawn colored wings that took up the entire width of the hallway leading in to their building.

“Can…can we help you?” Steve asked them. The demon spun around and faced them.

They said nothing.

“Hello?” Sam tried.

“Hi, Sam.” Their voice was small. Sam looked at Steve nervously before taking a few steps down the hall.

“Azazel. What’s going on?” Sam was moving closer and didn’t even seemed fazed when Azazel cowered.

Azazel’s wings fluttered, but they kept their footing. They knocked one of the framed photos crooked on the wall and flinched away from the noise of it scraping. Steve could tell that they were shaking slightly. But they still hadn’t said anything other than hello to Sam. Their entire body was shaking, and probably not from the cold. Their eyes were still wide with fear.

“Who is this?” Steve asked Sam. Sam stopped where he was and turned back to Steve.

“Um.” Now it was Sam who was flustered.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked the Demon. Azazel’s

No answer. Both Sam and the Demon were frozen.

“Azazel, right?” Steve took the few steps down the steps towards them, extending his hand. “I’m Steve.”

Azazel looked at his hand but didn’t take it. “I know who you are.”

“What’s going on, Az?” Sam asked him. Azazel swallowed a few times. One of his hands went up to absently tug at the corner of his pointed ear. Sam looked amused. “You know I don’t play guessing games. Talk to me.”

“Haven’t you seen the news?” Azazel asked them.

Sam and Steve exchanged a look before they both started shaking their heads.

“We’ve missed it.” Sam admitted.

Azazel looked around the hallway nervously. “Can we go into your office?”

“You think I get an office?” Steve raised an eyebrow, amused. Azazel’s wings fluttered in a move that Steve interpreted as both amusement and annoyance.

“I’d just really like to be somewhere safe.” They said quietly.

Sam ushered both him and Steve in to the same room where the meeting had just been held.

“I guess we’re having a conversation.” Sam pulled the doors shut behind him. “Now what’s going on?”

Azazel sat backwards on one of the chairs so that his wings had room. “They’re burning the D.O.Z.”

Several hours later, Steve was no clearer on exactly how it all started. Something in New York had gone badly and people were upset. Protesting in the street. Well, not people. Demons. And the police had been called in to deal with them. Something, or someone, somehow set fire to the rowhomes that comprised most of the housing within the Demon zone.

And then the riot team showed up. They hadn’t exactly waited to figure out which side was to blame.

How something in New York caused mass arson and injuries in Washington, Steve was not entirely sure.

Azazel said they watched at least three of their friends go into police vans for doing nothing but standing on their front porches and filming the violence on their phones. The officers had called it contributing to the mayhem and said it was also a punishable offense.

“So what now?” Sam asked them. “What brought you here?”

Azazel just looked at Sam. “That’s _why_ I’m here. I need help. I think we could get things calmed down.”

“I should call in to S.H.I.E.L.D., I think.” Steve told them. Azazel just looked at Steve like he was crazy.

“What?” They made a face like they smelled something rotten. “No. That won’t help anything.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is a peacekeeping force.” Steve reminded them. He crossed his arms.

“Usually by making nobody alive has enough strength to fight.” Azazel rolled their eyes. Sam didn’t look like he particularly disagreed with them. “No offense, Captain America. But, no. And I mean, _hell_ no.”

Sam cleared his throat. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is government agency. Their track record-”

Azazel snorted.

“- it’s not great. Their hands are tied by a lot of red tape.” Sam told them. They did look understanding.

He felt useless. Which made his head hurt. Steve watched some of the videos that Azazel’s friends had sent them and everything about all of them screamed that they needed Steve’s help. They needed someone to stop the violence. Instead he was stuck here listening about it second hand while people were ending up hurt- or worse- at the hands of a violent mob.

“I have an idea.” Steve told them, entirely interrupting a side conversation they’d been having.

“You do?” Azazel looked skeptical. “Is it smarter than the last one?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s been effective in the past.”

That didn’t seem to improve Azazel’s opinion of Steve abilities at all. They exchanged a look with Sam. Sam shrugged, but smirked at Steve. Steve just waited until they were done before standing.

“I just need to get back to my apartment to grab a few things.” Steve told them.

“Is he serious?” Azazel asked Sam. Sam shrugged.

“I guess we’ll see.”

What Steve needed was more serum. He hated himself for leaving it back at his apartment. He should have just carried it with him. But he hadn’t wanted to get caught with it on his person. So he’d stashed it like he always had in the bottom of his record player. Not that he could tell them exactly what he was going to get. So when Azazel looked at Sam, amusement twisting his mouth in to a smirk, Steve was already worried.

“You don’t think he’s going to go put the uniform on, do you?” Azazel asked him.

Sam’s response was to give Steve a blatant once over. “You know, I wouldn’t hate it.”

Azazel laughed- loudly- and Steve started blushing all over again.

“It’s like that?” Steve asked him, throwing back to the morning before.

“Oh, it's like that.” Sam assured him. They all laughed but Steve continued to head to the door.

Steve almost made it that time, too. He got the doors open and made it down the hall, practically having to force himself to walk instead of run. He could feel his skin crawl with the anticipation of it, knowing he was going to get out in to the action but also the serum. It would help him focus and make sure that his anger, which flared readily at the violence in Azazel’s videos, was kept in check. It was just a way to even out his keel before facing anyone. It would help.

That was the deal right? Serum for being Captain America. Steve decided that this counted.

But when he went to open the exterior doors there was a soldier in the way. His hand was mid-knock.

Steve doesn’t know who was more surprised at the situation. He could hear Sam come out in to the hallway behind him and heard him let out a sharp gasp at the sight of the guard standing there, hand on his gun-holster, face to face with Steve. Steve wasn’t able to form words as the rage had forced it’s way up his throat and blocked the way for any words that weren’t invectives.

“Captain.” The guard got his bearings before Steve. He noticed the guards gun hand didn’t move.

“Officer.” Steve nodded in responded, deliberately misspeaking. The guard tensed.

“I’m not an officer, sir.” He corrected. Steve nodded, forcing his face in to the model of contrition.

“My mistake.” Steve nodded. But he didn’t correct himself. The guard noticed.

The conversation halted there. The guard was waiting for Steve to correct himself and Sam was waiting to see who was going to win. And Steve was waiting for his own temper to cool down. And maybe (definitely) to see whether or not this guard was insolent enough to sock him in the jaw. From the look of it, he definitely wanted to try.

“I’m here about the riots.” The guard said finally. Steve feigned ignorance.

“Riots?” He asked. The guard looked annoyed.

“Have you not heard any of the bulletins?” The guard challenged. “It’s dangerous out here tonight.”

Steve frowned. “No, sorry. I was in a meeting here for Veterans with PTSD.”

It was a deliberate move to set the guard off his balance. Which worked, as the guard swallowed and said nothing. Sam took that opportunity to come up behind Steve, jutting his chin out angrily at the man on the other side of it. The guard’s equally hostile reaction told Steve that these two had clearly interacted before on less than pleasant terms.

“Mr. Wilson.” The guard nodded. Sam snorted.

“Kole.” Sam nodded shortly. Azazel didn’t come out. Steve figured that was an intentional choice.

“Anyone else here?” He asked. Both Steve and Sam shook their heads.

“Just us.” Sam admitted. “Captain America has been kind enough to agree to help lead some classes.”

The guard’s expression stayed even but Steve could tell he was skeptical. “That so?”

“Is there something specific you needed from us?” Sam asked. He tacked on a belated. “Sir.”

Kole straightened imperiously. “We’re doing a door to door sweep. A curfew has been put in effect starting at nine tonight. That is in fifteen minutes. You and Captain will need to say your goodbyes and head home for the night.”

The implication was clear and while Steve wasn’t offended by the idea, he was offended by the man.

“I’m a government agent and I’ll be confirming any curfew with my superiors.” Steve told him.

“What he said.” Sam nodded his head towards Steve. He shut the door on Kole’s response.

“That may not have been a smart move.” Steve told Sam as they went back to the meeting room.

“Tell me what law I broke though.” Sam snorted. Steve laughed.

They walked back in to an empty room. Steve whipped around. Sam looked much less surprised by the empty room. For a second Steve thought he must have helped the Azazel escape but still didn’t quite know how. There wasn’t a means for someone exit another way without stepping out in to the main hall, which would have been in full view of Kole.

“Okay.” He eventually admitted defeat, turning to Sam. “Where did he go?”

Sam shrugged. “He probably portaled. This building isn’t warded.”

“Which is how you got friendly with the local demon population?” Steve asked. Sam tensed.

“I, uh, actually had the wards removed when I started working her.” He admitted. Steve was surprised.

“Cool.” He nodded a few too many times in his attempt to sound casual.

This was the universe giving him an out. Here was a man who wouldn’t hate Steve for being a demon. A human life. Steve swallowed. Life was literally that blatantly unsubtle sometimes. And the way Sam looked at Steve, he could tell that there was a lot more about Steve besides his demon traits that Sam would be more than okay with.

And Steve was this side of it thinking about suiting up so that he could the serum.

And taking the serum so that he could see Bucky. The whole thing was a mess.

“I do need to call in to S.H.I.E.L.D. about this eventually.” Steve admitted. But instead he sat in one of the folding chairs of the meeting room facing Sam.

“You sound thrilled about that idea.”

“I’d be more thrilled if I didn’t know the answer was to go home and do nothing.” He admitted.

“You think?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“I think Fury didn’t make this mess so we won’t be the ones to clean it up.” Steve snorted.

“I hope I’m not the first one to tell you that you might need to rethink your career choice.” Sam made a face and looked away. Steve shook his head. It was hard to explain the dichotomy of doing the right thing for the wrong people. And what it meant to him to have the shield. And Bucky. The sudden weight of it sat on his chest so heavily that Steve that he caved forward to put his head in hands.

“Somehow.” Sam started slowly. “This feels like a conversation for another time.”

Steve laughed, feeling like he had a choice between that and crying. “Yeah.”

“So you leaving?” Sam asked him. “Or staying?”

Steve laughed at the way Sam raised a suggestive eyebrow. “Do you have a number for Azazel? I feel like we need to keep up our end of the promise.”

“Our?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You backing out?” Steve challenged. Sam chuckled and reached in to his pocket.

“Lets make the call.” He agreed.

* * *

Steve climbed the stairs of his apartment still thinking about what he’d done. It wasn’t that he felt it was wrong. It felt like the right move. And though S.H.I.E.L.D. would probably make sure he felt their displeasure, Steve was starting to recognize that might not be a bad thing. Maybe he should be forging an identity separate from them.

He rounded the stairs up to his level and found Kate coming out the door to her own apartment while on the phone. This was a habit of hers. Steve made a point to smile at her as she spoke to whoever was on the other end of the call. She said a quick goodbye and tossed the phone into her laundry basket, turning to talk to him. She smiled hesitantly.

“My aunt.” She said with a laugh. “She’s kind of an insomniac.”

Steve eyed the laundry in her hands. “Yeah. Hey, if you want, you’re more than welcome to use my machine. Might be cheaper than the one in the basement.”

“Oh, yeah?” She smirked. “What’s it cost?”

Steve wanted to mend fences. Have a neighbor in his building that didn’t hate him. “A cup of coffee?”

“Thank you.” She laughed lightly and looked down at her laundry. Steve realized belatedly that she probably thought he was asking her out. Luckily, she looked contrite and not hopeful. “But I already have a load in downstairs. And you really don’t want my scrubs in your machine. I just finished a rotation in the infectious disease ward, so…”

Steve could tell it wasn’t a good time. He put up his hands. “Ah, well. I’ll keep my distance.”

“Hopefully, not too far.” She smiled at him warmly. Steve laughed. They’d be ok. Eventually. He went to turn back and unlock his door when she stopped.

“Oh, and I think you left your stereo on.” She said casually, pointing towards the door.

As he got closer he could faintly hear music playing on the other side of his door. He hadn’t turned his music on that morning. And his only music player was his record machine. He frowned for a second but then covered it and turned back to Kate with a smile. “Oh. Right. Thank you.”

He waited for her to slip down the stairs before turning back and regarding his door. If there was someone in the apartment that was how they’d expect him to be coming in. He had to other potential points of entry, but the best was the fire escape into his kitchen. It was near where his shield was stored. He waited another minute before leaving the building and circling around to the side. He could climb up from there and come in that way.

The window opened with a slight creak but was practically silent to normal ears.  Steve picked up his shield from its spot in the hallway, checking the kitchen and study as he moved past them Someone had been in them. Recently. Steve couldn’t pinpoint what had changed but things were moved. Different. He walked down the hallway and paused at the corner to his living room. It was the only room he had left to check besides the bedroom.

Nick Fury was sitting in his corner chair in the complete dark next to his record player, which was turned all the way as loud as it could go. Steve sighed. He was probably there to tell Steve how much trouble he was in. Either for going in to the D.O.Z. or for Tony’s report on his DNA or the fight over the helicarriers. Honestly, Fury could take his pick.

“I don’t remember giving you a key.” Steve quipped. Nick sat up with a grunt.

“You really think I’d need one?” He paused and sighed. “My wife kicked me out.”

“I didn’t know you were married.” Steve was surprised. Someone could tolerate him?

“A lot of things you don’t know about me.” Fury defended. Steve felt a growl growing in his throat and stepped into the room angrily. He reached for the light and switched it on.

“I know, Nick. That’s the problem.” The light came on and Steve froze. Fury was battered.

Fury held a finger to his mouth to hush Steve and reached up to turn the light back off. Steve tensed. Something was off. Just like the rooms he’d passed on the way in. He looked around as Fury typed on his phone. This room had been touched too. He frowned at Fury, wondering what he’d done. He turned the phone towards Steve to read.

 _Ears everywhere_. It said.

Steve let out a frustrated sigh and glanced around. Who knew how long that had been the case. His thoughts back to that afternoon Natasha distracted him. Or had the ears been there the whole time? His stomach sank. That meant they had a lot of one sided conversations with Bucky.

“I’m sorry to have to do this,” Fury told him, “but I had no place else to crash.”

 _SHIELD compromised._ Fury typed out.

“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve asked him. Fury rose with a groan.

_You and me._

“Just…” Fury groaned again. “…my friends.”

“Is that what we are?” Steve challenged. Fury just stared for a moment.

“That’s up to you.” He admitted.

The wall exploded out. That’s what caught Steve’s attention first. But then Fury’s back arched forward and he crumpled to the ground in a heap. Steve froze for a split second- not from fear but to assess. It was a single shot that hit followed by two more in quick succession. It came through the exterior wall. Not the windows. That meant professional. It meant assassin. It meant a skilled sharpshooter. He stooped to help Nick, pulling him to put more walls between them and the outside wall of the building the shot had come from. 

Nick was coughing weakly, gasping for breath. Steve had his arm in his hand to pull him and suddenly Nick was grabbing him back frantically. Steve looked down and noticed he was trying to put something in Steve’s hand. He opened his hand and there was a flash drive there. Steve took it.

“Don’t. Trust. Anyone.” Fury gasped once Steve took it from him.

There were three bangs on the door. It sounded like knocking but louder. It flew open.

“Captain Rogers.” It was Kate. She’d kicked the door down. Steve peered around the wall.

She had a gun. Steve froze. He’d watched her walk down the stairs. Had she left? She’d been the one to tell Steve his music was on. Had she known Nick Fury was waiting for him? She’d gotten close to him since he’d moved in. She was the perfect vantage point for a spy. But it was Kate. His friend. Steve hesitated before lowering his shield. He didn’t come out from behind the corner.

“Captain.” She hadn’t lowered her weapon. “I’m Agent 13 of S.H.I.E.L.D. Special Service.”

“Kate?” Steve’s mouth worked a few times before her name came out a little strangled.

“I’m assigned to protect you.” She said, immediately jumping to the defensive.

“On whose orders?” Steve demanded. She stopped and gasped when she saw Fury’s injuries.

“His.” She said. She dropped her weapon and leaned down to check on Nick’s vitals. After a second she reached into the scrubs she was still wearing and pulled out a small radio walkie-talkie. Steve still felt as if he was fifteen seconds behind everyone else. He ran a hand through his head. Kate wasn’t Kate. Or maybe she was, but she was also S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Not a nurse.

“Foxtrot is down. He’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.” She called in. Steve watched incredulously.

“Do we have a 20 on the shooter?” The dispatcher asked her. Steve looked out the window.

He saw the flash of a sniper scope. The shooter was on the move.

“Tell them I’m in pursuit.” Steve snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	17. 4-5-14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr)

<Embedded Video>   
Image © Getty Images 2014  
Video description:   
Protesters march through the streets of Manhattan both in support of the National Guard and the resettlement of the victims of the Battle of New York. They marched in counter-protest of the “Demon Equality League” led by infamous Demon Magneto. Protesters carried signs with popular Pro-Human messages such as “In Blood We Trust” and “Humans First”.

**MASS CHAOS FOLLOWING DEMON PROTESTS**  
by James Olson    
April 5, 2014

Protests throughout most American metropolitan cities saw violence that ended in serious injury or death. It escalated after New York Housing Authority officials called in the National Guard to evacuate the Demon occupied areas on the New York’s Upper East Side. The date of the eviction was posted by all local guidelines and all standard protocol. National “Demon-Kind Rights Groups” organized nationwide protests in response and used the date as a rallying call for their supporters. The resulting confrontation has left several dozen hospitalized. Six humans have been injured in the aftermath. None of the reported casualties this far have been human.

Across the nation, several hundred thousand people showed up both in support of these rights groups and to counter-protest their message. The result was crowded cities with tensions that ran high on both sides. By late afternoon, specialty forced had been called in to contain the escalating conflict. Eyewitness video showed a line of Demons standing in front of Guard forced attempted to enter the D.O.Z. area. While the only shots fired in the video are from the National Guard, eye-witnesses maintain that it was in response to aggressive behavior on the side of the demons.

While multiple casualties at the hands of Peace Guards have been reported, no charges have been filed at this time. District Attorney Samantha Reyes released a formal statement from her office commending the Guard’s response time and course of action. Officials don’t believe that any charges will be filed against them stemming from the protests. It is believed that several of the organizers of the protests from the DEL will be held liable for the damages caused at the protest locations nationwide.

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<Related Articles Recommended for You>

  1. S.H.I.E.L.D. Vehicle Involved In Multiple Vehicle Accident in Downtown 
  2. 20 Shocking Photos From Inside the National Protests 
  3. Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nicholas Fury Declared Dead Following Vehicle Collision 
  4. Funeral Arrangements For Nick Fury On Hold, Interim Director Reports 
  5. Is Increased Demon Activity Driven by a Failing Economy? 



#ProudOfWhat? @ImperiousRex   
@RoxProphecy Saw you in NYC?   
11:43 PM – 6 April 2014 

Here For the Mayhem Now @RoxProphecy   
@ImperiousRex According to my lawyers I should not answer that  
11:53 PM – 6 April 2014 

Here For the Mayhem Now @RoxProphecy   
@ImperiousRex Switching to DM   
11:53 PM – 6 April 2014  

#ProudOfWhat? @ImperiousRex   
@RoxProphecy Yeah, got you  
11:55 PM – 6 April 2014 

Here For the Mayhem Now @RoxProphecy   
@ImperiousRex Though did you here our baby Az made a friend?  
11:59 PM – 6 April 2014  

#ProudOfWhat? @ImperiousRex   
@RoxProphecy I made that happen. Definitely DM.   
12:01 AM – 7 April 2014

Here For the Mayhem Now @RoxProphecy   
@ImperiousRex HAHA. Of course. What are you playing at?  
12:03 AM – 7 April 2014

#ProudOfWhat? @ImperiousRex   
@RoxProphecy  What part of DM is confusing you?!  
12:05 AM – 7 April 2014

<Embedded Image>   
Image © Getty Images 2014  
Image description:   
Long distance photo of Captain America (Steve Rogers) out of uniform among the protestors in D.C. as they face off against the counter-protestors. While he took no violent action against the counter-protestors, many are calling for the long-time S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent to explain his presence at such a divisive political event. Questions about bias and suitability to serve have already been raised.

**THIS JUST IN- CAPTAIN AMERICA, POLITICAL AGENT OF CHANGE?**  
by Eddie Brock  
April 7, 2014 

So much for the old-fashioned American Values purportedly held by the ageless Captain America- the literal man wearing Stars and Stripes and supposedly for “America” in the international eyes of the world. But truth of the matter is that this man is little better than another Liberal shill out here polluting the minds of the American public. Hardworking, honest Americans know that equality is a lie, even amongst humans. Demons want this handed to them on a silver platter and not to have to work for it the way that the rest of us have.

If we give all these non-human creatures the same rights as humans, where do we draw the line? Are we granting my dog the right to vote next? I have a goldfish with more brain cells than most liberals? I’d be willing to let him register (as long as it was Republican, of course). But, I digress.

Captain America is three quarters of a century out of date. He doesn’t know where he is. His society of the antiquated 1940s is not the modern society of today. We need to protect these American values that he seems so quick to erode. What purpose does he serve putting his personal opinions out there for everyone to see? He is Captain America and what he stands for is more important than his personal feelings.

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**OlCanucklehead**  
Dude, your goldfish might have more braincells than you do. Let it vote instead.

**CaptainGlamourPants**  
OlCanucklehead- would forcing it to register as republican count as animal abuse?

**OlCanucklehead**  
CaptainGlamourPants- If it’s not, it should be. Get ahead of the problem before Eddie here ruins it for the rest of us. 

**HereForthePetCommentary**  
My sheltie would 100% vote democrat. Momma don’t raise no fools, yall.

**OlCanucklehead**  
 #goodpetownersraisedemocrats

**Guest54958**  
We’re missing the point here- which is that Captain America supports ME.

**Admin**  
Guest54958 You’re violating this site’s ToS. Your session will be terminated and the IP will be blocked per the host’s zero tolerance policy.

**OlCanucklehead**  
Hey, admin- get fucked


	18. What a Way to Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr)

When they called Fury's time of death, Steve walked out of the room. His heart was pounding in his chest and it felt like he had fire racing through his veins. He could barely focus. He rested his head on the wall and resisted urge to put his fist through it. This was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s doing, somehow, and Steve could feel it in his bones. But he didn’t know how. Or why. And no matter what direction he'd come at it from, he couldn't think of a secret S.H.I.E.L.D. would have that Fury wouldn't know. 

Except that S.H.I.E.L.D. has been compromised 

That’s what Fury had told him. Steve was alone in the hall for five minutes. He was no less on edge when Natasha came out in to the hallway searching for him. Steve shook his head but couldn’t tamp down his anger on how long it had taken her to get there. 

“Where were you?” He snapped. “I called you probably fifty times. It’s been two hours.” 

“I was dealing with a situation.” She snapped back, matching his tone. 

“Agent Hill said you weren’t.” Steve told her. He crossed his arms. “And tonight is a hell of a night to be too busy to check your phone.” 

She scowled at him. “What exactly are you trying to say?”  

“I’m not saying anything.” Steve insisted, backing down slightly. “I’m just trying to understand.”  

“Nick has been shot. He’s dead.” Natasha's tone was tense. But that was his point exactly. 

“In my apartment. Which Fury just told me was bugged. Do you know anything about that?” She didn’t answer but continued to scowled at him. Steve deflated, pinching the bridge of his nose “I don’t know what to do here, Natasha. And apparently I can’t be trusted.” 

She didn’t back down as much as he did, but her tone was softer. “You know why.” 

“You know I hate to speak ill of the dead.” Steve scoffed and shook his head a few times. 

“I dare you to try.” Natasha snarled at him.  

“Had Tony told him yet?” Steve asked. For some reason, it mattered. Natasha flinched backward. 

“That is what you’re thinking about right now?” She asked him. Her tone was accusatory. 

“It’s just-” It just mattered whether or not Fury knew when he decided to trust him, Steve realized. 

“Just what?” Natasha snapped at him. Steve shrugged. 

“I just wondered if he knew before he…” He trailed off and shrugged.  

“Before he died on your watch?” She snapped. Steve swallowed. That did about sum it up. 

“Yeah.” He said simply. Before Fury had trusted him and Steve had let him die. Before he’d failed to catch Fury’s assassin. Before Steve had proven that he wasn’t fast enough or strong enough when it mattered. Natasha was staring at him and Steve could see the judgement behind it. He'd failed. He hadn't been strong enough. 

“He knew.” Natasha said finally. She was watching him, measuring his reaction. Steve knew his surprise also surprised her. “But S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t. Tony did it…I don’t know. Separate. Privately to just Fury. I don’t know what we do now.” 

They were silent until Maria came out of the double doors and looked between the two of them. Neither Steve nor Natasha said anything to her. She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. She walked away without a word. 

They stood in that hallway, silently, for hours. Steve didn’t know what they were waiting for but knew that he couldn’t leave. That he didn’t want to leave. He fidgeted with the flash drive in his pocket and swallowed back bile in his throat. Fury had known. Fury had known and trusted him anyway. He shouldn’t have. When Maria came back, she looked no less devastated. She walked over and jutted her chin out as if to dare them to say anything about the redness around her eyes. 

“They said.” She stopped and closed her eyes before trying again. “They said we could see him.”  

“Steve can wait here.” Natasha snapped. She went to the door Maria had gestured towards. 

Steve followed her quietly. Nick was on a table covered by only a thin white sheet. Steve stayed by the door while Natasha went forward. She stopped a couple of feet away from the bed and hesitated. She looked over her shoulder at Steve and glared coolly.  

“Can I have a minute?” She asked him. Steve frowned.  

“No.” He snapped. Natasha frowned and turned back to Nick’s body and took a deep breath. 

She stood there for a few minutes not moving- at least that Steve could see- until he noticed that her mouth was moving rapidly and quietly. Almost as if it was a prayer. Steve pretended that he hadn’t seen anything. After almost thirty minutes, Maria came into the room and hesitated at the door before coming in and standing next to him. 

Maria said quietly. “I need to take him.”  

Natasha didn’t move. Steve stepped forward and called her name but she didn’t respond. Her back was to him so he couldn’t read her face. He said her name again and she reached forward and touched Nick’s head gently. Without a word to him or Maria, she stomped out of the room and into the hallway. Steve followed her, temper starting to flare.  

“Natasha.” He called. She stopped and spun on her heel to face him.  

“Why was Fury in your apartment?” She snapped accusingly. Steve sighed and shrugged. 

“I don’t know.” He half-lied. And he didn’t. He had no idea what was on the flash drive.  

She was about to ask him another question when Rumlow came up behind and interrupted them sharply. “Cap. They want you back at S.H.I.E.L.D..” 

“Yeah, give me a second.” Steve turned to acknowledge him and went to turn back. 

“They want you now.” Rumlow insisted. Steve scowled.  

“Okay.” He nodded once. Rumlow turned and walked away. Steve turned back to Natasha. 

She looked at him for two seconds and scoffed. “You’re a terrible liar.” 

She turned and walked away from him without looking back. Steve watched her for a moment and then turned away. He needed to go. Strike Team asking for him was troubling. That meant someone high up at S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted him quickly and badly. And Steve still had the flash drive. He couldn’t carry that past the security at the Triskelion. He had few secure options.  

Except for one. He eyed the open vending machine next to him. It was better than nothing. 

* * *

 

Steve made them wait for him to get showered, changed, and into uniform. It was a petty move, but Steve was feeling irritable and didn’t appreciate being summoned like an underling. Strike Team considered Steve to be enough of a figure piece that nobody questioned his need to get into character before reporting to Pierce. They just let it happen. But it gave Steve time to think. To make a plan. He couldn’t get to the serum now, but his could still focus enough to connect pieces. 

Rumlow had admitted that it was Alexander Pierce wanting to speak to him. A friend of Nick’s. This could be nothing but a friend trying to make sense of an assasination. But Fury had told him to trust nobody. And Fury hadn’t gone to Pierce’s apartment when he needed help; he’d come to Steve’s. If Fury wasn’t going to trust Pierce, Steve wasn’t going to either. Those were the orders. No exceptions. Fury had said S.H.I.E.L.D. itself had been compromised. There were no safe bets. 

When the elevator to Pierce’s floor opened, it had been a full two hours since Steve had been yanked from the hospital. Late enough that it was light out, so it had to have been at least five or six hours since Nick had passed. Steve saw him giving Kate- “Agent 13”- a tight smile and wondered what exactly they had to discuss. Nothing that Steve would be comfortable with, probably. They saw him coming and separated. Kate headed towards the elevator.  

“Captain Rogers.” She nodded.  

“Neighbor.” He snapped coolly. Steve heard her steps stutter as she faltered. He smirked. 

Pierce waited for Steve to approach to extend his hand. “Captain. I’m Alexander Pierce.” 

“Sir, it’s an honor.” It was. Steve had never met him personally before.  

“The honor’s mine, Captain.” Pierce corrected. “My father served in the 101st. Come on in.” 

Steve did, awkwardly following him into a polished office of modern furniture and chrome. Pierce motioned for Steve to take a seat. He’d started going on about his friendship to Fury, but his eyes were glancing towards the door and his watch. He was waiting for someone else to join them. Or for something to happen. Steve wasn’t sure which and waiting to find out left him sitting stiffly and missing half of what Pierce was saying because he couldn’t focus.  

It would have been easy to fall for Pierce’s spiel. The photo of them. The earnest belief that Nicky Fury had been dedicated to doing the right thing. The dismissal of the theory that Steve had hired the pirates to illegally acquire and sell secrets. Those were all true. Steve could see how the world fell in line behind Pierce’s orders. But then it had happened. Pierce looked at Steve and asked, without any hint of deception in his voice. 

“Why was he there?”  

It was almost verbatim the same question that Natasha had asked him. He’d heard it a dozen times that morning. But the set in Pierce’s jaw was tense. Angry. It occurred to Steve that he was mad. And maybe it was because Steve was taking too long to tell him the truth. But Steve felt a wave of anxiety shoot down it spine. It was wrong. Off. What little sense of self-preservation he had was telling him that he needed to leave.  

“He told me not to trust anyone.” He admitted to Pierce. The man scoffed lightly. 

“I wonder if that included him.” For a man ostensibly on Fury’s side, he had seeded distrust too much. 

“I’m sorry.” Steve shrugged, deliberately misunderstanding. “Those were his last words.” 

He went to leave. He wanted out. There was something wrong with the whole thing. Pierce was clearly trying to delay him. He leveled Steve with a glare as he made his way to the door, trying to disguise it as concern for catching Fury’s killer. But Steve could tell that it was deeper than that. Steve barely slowed as he reached for the door and went to exit in to the hallway. 

“Captain.” Doctor Faustus stood on the other side of it. She was smiling, which made Steve nervous. 

“Doctor.” He nodded. He went to step around her, but she raised a hand to stop him.  

“Just a moment.” She told him, smile never faltering. “I think the Director wanted to speak to us both.” 

Pierce cleared his throat from behind Steve. “Yes, I did.” 

“You didn’t say.” Steve told him. He took two steps backwards but didn’t turn his back to the Doctor. 

“It slipped my mind.” Pierce claimed. Faustus set her bag on the couch and started pulling out files. 

“I’ve been authorized to do a complete examination.” Doctor Faustus told him. “Starting immediately.” 

Steve frowned. “I’ll have to decline.” 

“That’s not how this works.” She let her smile drop in to a frown. 

“Captain.” Pierce began. “I know you are a man of action-” 

“I think my priority needs to be on Director Fury’s assassination.” Steve emphasized. The both flinched. 

“Of course.” Faustus nodded.  

“Compromise.” Pierce said, forcing a light-heartedness into his voice that didn’t match his scowl. 

“The previous Director was not as accepting of my attempts to understand your medical background. Perhaps it was for your benefit. Or Stark's. Or maybe the Director knew that there was something to hide.” The Doctor pulled out a syringe. Steve blanched. “But Director Pierce has assured me that I’ll have your full cooperation moving forward.” 

“I don’t think-” 

“Nobody is asking you to.” Pierce snapped at Steve. Steve’s jaw snapped shut. 

“We can start with a blood sample today.” Doctor Faustus continued uncomfortably. Steve swallowed. “I will schedule you for a complete medical and psychological work up before you are cleared to work.” 

Steve stepped away from her. “What?” 

“You’ve been under so much stress, Captain.” Doctor Faustus was smiling again. 

“I’ve had worse.” He told her tersely. 

“Which is exactly why it is imperative that we make sure you are in optimal condition to serve S.H.I.E.L.D.’s needs. We have a standard of excellence.” She was setting up a full collection kit. Steve resolved that she was getting nowhere near him with those needles. 

“No.” Steve said firmly. 

“We don’t?” She cocked her head to the side and looked between Pierce and Steve in confusion. 

“I’ve been told you are averse to medical tests.” Pierce told Steve, he walked over and put a firm hand on his shoulder. “But we need to think about the bigger picture. Imagine what the opinion would be of Captain America if he weren’t seen as the paragon of health, strength, and humanity. Those are American values, Captain.” 

Steve nodded. “I know, sir.” 

“We need to make sure you maintain your health for the sake of the country.” Pierce continued. 

“Of course.” It was a bit much, but Pierce was clearly on a roll. 

“There is a responsibility to maintain perfection behind the shield and what it stands for.” Pierce tapped the shield on Steve’s back. Steve forced himself not to flinch away. All this perfection and humanity talk was making Steve a little queasy. “We have a duty to humanity, Captain, to protect and serve to the best of our ability. To do that, you need to be at your best.” 

“I understand.” Steve nodded, mind racing. “But right now?” 

Doctor Faustus lifted her syringe. “No time like the present.” 

“Perhaps a nurse should be called in.” Pierce acknowledged the nervous look on Steve’s face. 

“He scares them away.” The Doctor told Pierce. “So I’ve come prepared. And I don’t scare easily.” 

Steve did, apparently. She moved towards Steve with the needle and he reacted purely out of instinct, shoving her arm away from him with all his might. She went scattering backward. That needle was not going to touch him. He turned, darting around her, and left the office without a word. He could hear them calling after him but didn’t care. He needed out. He needed to escape. Pierce and Faustus working together meant that Steve was royally screwed. His breath was coming in deep gulps. He should call Tony. Tony wasn’t S.H.I.E.L.D. and had always maintained his independence when he was an Avenger. He’d be able to help. Steve could trust Tony. 

He stared out the window by the elevator waiting for someone to grab him. The city sprawled out below him and Steve watched the early morning movement absently as he tried to force his mind to think. He’d go back to his apartment for the serum. Then he’d call Tony. Maybe even organize a visit to Tony’s new place in California. Steve heard that it was designed by Pepper, so it was bound to be classy. 

He was still planning where he would head next when Rumlow got on the elevator. Steve didn’t notice him until he tried to start a conversation. The next floor had more people get on. And then, a few floors below that, Steve recognized Sid as he entered. But Sid wouldn’t look at him. His face was stony and hard. Some of the others were sweating. Steve sighed. 

“Before we get started.” Steve said coolly. “Does anyone want to get out?” 

* * *

 

Steve hit the lobby floor with such a hard impact that his whole body reverberated with it. When he stood he could feel his bones and joints trying to heal themselves as he moved. He stood weakly and started making his way out of the building. People were too shocked to stop him.  

Pierce had set Strike Team on him. There was no question. Pierce knew something he didn’t. 

Natasha had assured him that Tony hadn’t sent in his report via official channels. That he’d handed it to Fury covertly and nobody else at S.H.I.E.L.D. would know about it yet. It wouldn’t be on the servers. But the way Pierce had stared at him. The way that he had talked about the future of humanity. Something in Steve was set on edge. But he couldn’t think. He couldn’t focus. Besides the pain that he couldn’t see past, Steve didn’t have any serum left in his system. He was running on empty. 

The plane on the bridge was overkill on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s part, and only told Steve how desperate they were to contain him. He wrecked it as gently as he could but he knew it needed to be taken down. The pilots both survived. At least the crash. He couldn’t be held accountable for what Pierce would do to them for failing in their mission. As Steve moved he felt stronger. His body was healing and knitting itself back together. He watched the plane burn on the bridge and took off across it back into the city. Once he reached the flash drive, he’d be able to disappear. Just until he had a course of action. 

He didn’t want to head straight to the hospital. It was too obvious. There would certainly be agents on watch because the body of the Director was probably still there. The investigation was ongoing. Steve stopped in a nearby parking lot, next to a gym, and went through the small storage container of his bike, which also would need to be ditched. It was a S.H.I.E.L.D. bike and most likely being traced as he rode it.  

Steve thought about his next steps and the things that he needed. Sweats, t-shirt, and sneakers. A way to get in to the hospital that was more subtle than the navy blue uniform S.H.I.E.L.D. had designed for him. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if the uniform had a transponder in it for them to track him. Steve glanced towards the open door of the gym and then down at his uniform. He could work with this. 

Twenty minutes, and one- very enthusiastic- trade later, Steve walked through the doors of the hospital in a nondescript navy jumpsuit and cap. He walked with his shoulders hunched and his head down to appear shorter and less broad. Steve didn’t have to get far in order to get what he needed. 

Except, the vending machine was empty. The entire row of Hubba Bubba he’d hid the flash drive behind had been bought out in the three hours he’d been gone. Steve stared at the glass in disbelief. He heard someone pop a bubblegum bubble behind him and spun around in fury. It wasn’t easy with the stiffness in his whole body. Steve wasn’t even surprised to find Natasha there. She certainly didn’t seem surprised to see him there. He hauled off and yanked her into the closest empty room with all of his strength. 

“Where is it?” He asked roughly. She glowered at him. 

“Safe.” She snapped.  

“Do better.” Steve was practically snarling. Natasha’s face was cool and calm.  

“Where did you get it?” She asked him. Steve scoffed in disbelief.  

“Why would I tell you?” He asked her. She just regarded him for a moment.  

“Fury gave it to you. Why?” She asked. Steve ignored her.  

“What’s on it?” He asked. Natasha was thrown enough by his question that she answered it.  

“I don’t know.” She insisted. Steve shook her slightly.  

“Stop. Lying.” He snapped at her. She looked genuinely concerned.  

“I only act like I know everything, Rogers.” Natasha claimed. But Fury told her everything. She was comfortable with everything. He didn’t buy it. Natasha was the one person Fury trusted, even if he didn’t admit it to either of them.  

“I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn’t you?” Steve asked her. Natasha wasn’t fazed. 

“Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty. Fury needed a way in. So do you” She shrugged. 

Steve didn’t believe that it just ‘made sense’ to her for a second. “I’m not gonna ask you again.” 

“I know who killed Fury.” She said after a pause. There was a momentary crack. Natasha was nervous. Either because of the situation, because of Steve’s temper, or because of the loss of her friend. Steve figured it was an even split. “Most of the intelligence community doesn’t believe he exists. The ones that do call him the Winter Soldier. He’s credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years.” 

Steve wasn’t impressed. “So he’s a ghost story.” 

“Five years ago I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran.” Natasha explained. It didn’t look like a good memory. “Somebody shot out my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight off a cliff. I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering the engineer, so he shot him. Straight through me. Soviet slug. No rifling. Bye-bye bikinis.”  

Her smirk was more cover than amusement. “Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now.” 

“Going after him is a dead end. I know I’ve tried.” She told him. She held something up in front of his face. The flash drive. “Like you said, he’s a ghost story.” 

He took it from her, frowning. “Well, let’s find out what the ghost wants.”  

“Slow your roll.” Natasha snatched it back from him. “We can’t just plug it in anywhere.” 

He snatched it back and ignored her outraged huff. “Then I’ll hold it until we find somewhere we can.” 

* * *

 

Natasha tossed the bag of clothes at him over the bathroom stall. She’d wedged the door to the fourth floor men’s bathroom closed and was already halfway changed. Steve followed suit- inside the stall, which had made Natasha laugh at him. He hesitated when he was pulling up the pants. They were way too tight. But Natasha just told him they were part of his cover. It was just a younger style. Steve grumbled but pulled them on. The rest of the outfit was just was bad. He walked out of the stall with a grimace after putting all of it on. 

“Really?” Gesturing to her shoes choice.  

“We were working on a budget.” She told him. “And they were your best option.”  

She stepped forward and wedged hat over his head. He actually thought it helped. “Thanks.” 

“Let’s get this done.” She nodded. 

There was nobody in the hallway outside to complain about the locked door. They slipped out and into the crowd without anyone looking at them twice. She matched his brisk pace as they worked their way down the line of shops. Steve kept looking over his shoulder, expecting to see someone following them.  

“Chill.” Natasha slowed their pace with a hand on his arm. 

“We need to move faster.” Steve hissed. The mall was crowded. He looked around nervously. 

“First rule of going on the run is don’t run, walk.” said Natasha. Steve kept watching the crowd.  

“If I run in these shoes they’re gonna fall off.” Steve told her, looking over his shoulder. She kept her head forward confidently. They were walking side by side and Steve couldn’t help but wonder why his completely generic white trainers needed to be switched out. Natasha claimed they’d have thrown off the entire outfit but he noticed that her shoes actually tied around her feet and were what he assumed was stylish. His own shoes flopped open uselessly. 

“Apple store.” Natasha nodded with her head. Steve looked down at her.  

They walked into the brightly lit store and Steve had to blink a few time as his fake glasses seemed to magnify the glare. It was irritating his eyes. Natasha was still scowling at him, having parked herself at one of the computers furthest computers into the store. She held out her hand. Steve hesitated and then finally dropped the flash drive into her waiting palm. 

“The drive has a level six homing program, so as soon as we boot up S.H.I.E.L.D. will know exactly where we are.” Natasha explained, typing into the computer quickly. She accessed a program and then held the flash drive at the ready.  

“How much time will we have?” Steve asked her. 

“About nine minutes from…” She pushed and inserted the flash drive into the computer. “now.” 

“Better work quickly.” Steve urged, watching the crowd as subtly as he could. He was on edge.  

“Relax,” She smirked as she worked. “I’m really, very good at my job.” 

Steve scowled. “I’ve noticed.”  

“Stop scowling.” Natasha told him in an annoyed whisper. “We’re in this together. If we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to trust me.” 

Steve had no responses that weren’t quips about bugs in his apartment. 

“Fury was right about that ship.” She said instead of responding. Her screen sifted through information quickly. “Somebody’s trying to hide something. This drive is protected by some sort of AI. It keeps rewriting itself to counter my commands.” 

“Can you override it?” Steve asked.  

“The person who developed this is slightly smarter than me.” Natasha quipped. “Slightly.”  

That wasn’t good. “What can you do?”  

“I’m gonna try running a tracer.” She told him. “This is a program that S.H.I.E.L.D. developed to track hostile malware. So if we can’t read the file, maybe we can find out where it came from.”  

Steve was about to ask her how that was going to help when they were interrupted by an Apple genius. Natasha covered herself well but Steve was stiff and frozen. Almost literally. As he stood he felt his back lock up stiffly. She did most of the talking while he was flustered and fumbled for words. His mind was focused on the clock. They needed to move. Now.  

When the tech suddenly stared at him with narrowed eyes, Steve thought they were blown.  

“I have the exact same glasses.” He said. Steve exhaled. Natasha gave an almost silent snort. 

“Wow, you two are practically twins.” She said drawled, not looking up from the computer. The tech just laughed as if she was joking with him. Steve made sure the screen on their computer was blocked. 

“Yeah, I wish.” The tech laughed awkwardly. He gestured to Steve. “Specimen.”  

Natasha laughed quietly again. 

Steve shifted awkwardly. The tech laughed again. “If you guys need anything, I’ve been Aaron.” 

“Alright, specimen.” Natasha teased. Steve turned to the screen. She was still working.  

“You said nine minutes. Come on.” He told her. He was still watching the crowds around them. 

“Relax.” Natasha didn’t seem bothered and shushed him.  “Got it.”  

Steve had to lean into the screen to see it better because the damn glasses actually made his vision worse. He couldn’t be seeing what he thought he was seeing. There was a little square on the map and in yellow letters next to it was labeled ‘Camp Lehigh’. Steve frowned at it.  

“You know it?” Natasha asked. Steve yanked the drive from the computer.  

“I used to.” He admitted. He took her by the arm and out of the store. “Let’s go.” 

* * *

 

They found a car in the parking garage of the mall and Steve got in running. They were lucky that it had a full tank of gas and it would get them several hours outside of the city before they needed to stop and refuel. They’d probably be able to wait until after they got to Camp Lehigh. 

It occurred to Steve that Natasha hadn’t asked him how he knew where the camp was. 

Which meant she already knew. And asking him about it had been a test. 

The realization made Steve want to sulk in silence, but Natasha wasn’t doing silence. She rambled almost incessantly for the first hour and a half of their drive, which was unlike her. She didn’t talk about anything of importance. Half of the time was spent ranting about a billboard she had found particularly offensive. The rest was divided by talking about her prevailing theories on subjects ranging from (but not limited to): Steve’s love life, this TV show she had started watching that she thought he would hate, and which Washington official was going to be the next brought down by a sex scandal. Steve didn’t contribute, which Natasha barely appeared to notice and certainly didn’t comment on. It wasn’t until they crossed the New Jersey state line that Natasha even addressed him directly.  

“Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?” She asked him suddenly.  

“Nazi Germany.” He said shortly.  

“Mmmm.” His response clearly didn’t impress her. 

“And we’re borrowing. Take your feet off the dash.” He told her. She did so and he caught the small smile of amusement that she gave him.  

Which, somehow, brought them back to Steve’s love life. He didn’t particularly appreciate the segue and wasn’t really interested in breaking down his membership application to the Lonely Hearts Club. But he did need Natasha on his side. And the way she was looking at him told Steve she was trying to make sure that he was on hers too. 

Steve laughed. “Believe it or not, it’s hard to find someone with shared life experience.” 

“Well, that’s all right.” She shrugged. “You just make something up.”  

Steve raised an eyebrow, knowing he was being a little judgmental. “What, like you?”  

“I don’t know.” She looked down and away from him. Steve got the sense that he’d touched a nerve. “The truth is a matter of circumstances. It’s not all things to all people all the time. Neither am I.” 

It sounded like she was quoting something that Steve missed. “That’s a tough way to live.” 

“It’s a good way not to die, though.” She said, facing forward and still avoiding his gaze. 

“You know, it’s kind of hard to trust someone, when you don’t really know who that someone is.” He told her with a pointed look. She looked up at him sadly. 

“Yeah.” She admitted. Natasha paused and stared at him. “Who do you want me to be?”  

Steve didn’t know how to answer. “How about a friend?”  

“Well, there’s a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers.” She laughed. But her face went serious and she dropped the smile she’d be forcing. “We don’t really do friends. And when we do, we don’t do them well.”  

“You mistake me for a man with a lot of options.” Steve gave a self-deprecating shrug. Natasha smiled. 

“We’re all prisoners of our experience, Steve.” Natasha quipped. Steve snorted. 

“I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.” He admitted. Natasha laughed with him and moved to switch on the radio, turning up some pop music Steve couldn’t stand. 

“Shut up for a bit, soldier. You’re chatting my ear off.” She told him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One step closer! Thank you for sticking around! Make sure to check out me (walkingstardust/ chettawritesstuff) and the amazing artist Neutralchaos (Neutralchaos1 / chaosdraws) on tumblr!
> 
>  


	19. Pain in My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr)

“So, when were you here?” Natasha asked him as the walked through the abandoned camp.

“I trained here. Before” Steve told her, looking around. So much of it was the same.

“Change much?” She asked, barely betraying her surprise.

“A little bit.” Nostalgia battled with bitterness in his gut. “This is where they chose me.”  

Steve couldn’t buy it. He could see himself here. Camp Lehigh. The tiny, weaker, human version of himself that got rebuilt into Captain America. He’d run the same dirt road he and Natasha were exploring. She was climbing up to the old barracks and buildings searching for the signal while Steve just stood frozen. It was another double vision. What should be and what was, sitting next to each other and making him dizzy.

“This is a dead end.” Natasha called, lowering the tracker. Steve was pulled out of the memory and stared at her. “Zero heat signature, zero waves, not even radio. Whoever wrote the file must have used a router to throw people off.”

“What is it?” Natasha asked, when Steve froze. He walked away from her. She followed behind him. 

“Army regulations forbid storing munitions within 500 yards of the barracks.” Steve told her as they walked. He could feel his old self standing in the background watching. It felt like a third person watching them. Steve couldn’t shake the feeling of it. He approached the armory building door. “This building is in the wrong place.”

The door didn’t open immediately so Steve used his shield. Natasha snorted. “Show off.” 

“Just open it.” Steve laughed. She pulled and the doors opened with a groan, revealing steps.

They walked down and Natasha switched on the light. “This is S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Maybe where it started.” Steve looked around the large room. It was all dust and peeling paint.

“I didn’t think S.H.I.E.L.D. started until after your deep freeze.” Natasha said, looking at him. She touched the large wooden S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on the wall and looked at him in confusion. “The S.S.R. shut down in the 50s and was replaced by the founding members. Phillips. Stark. Carter. And, of course, your loyal Commandos.” 

“That’s the story Peggy told me.” Steve nodded. 

She didn’t say anything else but stared at him. He shifted awkwardly and went to continue searching. There were doors along the back wall that Steve turned his back on her to try and open. She followed behind him. 

“Starks fathers.” Natasha nodded towards the picture. Steve nodded. 

“Howard.” Steve wasn’t looking at Howard’s picture but Peggy’s. Young and healthy. It hurt him.

Steve worked his way down this back room, which was ostensibly just rows of files and bookshelves. But something about it wasn’t right. Steve followed the wall and looked for whatever it was that was off. He wasn’t seeing it. Not until he caught the draft between the bookshelves. 

“If you’re already working in a secret office.” Steve used all his strength to force one of the bookshelves to the side. It revealed a short hallway with an elevator bay set almost fifteen feet back. “Why do you need to hide the elevator?”

Natasha used some S.H.I.E.L.D. gadget to get the elevator doors open. Steve would have forced the doors open even if she hadn’t. The end result would have been the same. The ride down in the elevator was tense. Uncomfortable. Natasha was eyeing him as suspiciously as he was eyeing her. 

“You really haven’t been here before?” She asked him. Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Never.” He snapped. “Why?”

“I tend to assume whoever finds the secret hiding place has been there before.” She shrugged.

The doors opened to a black room. It was too dark to gauge what was there. They hesitated a moment before stepping out into the dark and letting the elevator doors close behind them. The lights switched on as they moved further into the space and Steve could tell that they were in the middle of some kind of control center. There were screens and what looked like an old computer. He wasn’t sure. And there was no indicator of what its purpose was. It only illuminated the area directly over them and left a lot of shadows. Steve couldn’t tell where the room ended.

“This can’t be the data point. This technology is ancient.” Natasha shook her head.

They both spotted the USB dock at the same time. Natasha held it up and Steve scoffed to himself. He hadn’t even realized she’d taken it from him. Probably while he was driving and she was talking. She plugged the flash drive into the dock and stepped back. Steve heard the machine whirring to life and lights came on across the entire room. It was even larger than he’d estimated. Massive. He turned in a circle and had the unique sensation of being in a trap that was snapping shut. Steve saw the monitor switch on from black to a dull grey before the text appeared.

_Initiate System?_

Steve wanted to tell Natasha not to do it. He was uneasy. Something wasn’t right. She stepped forward and types ‘yes’ on the old keyboard.

“Y-E-S spells yes.” She quipped. He didn’t respond.

“Shall we play a game?” She smirked and turned to Steve, laughing at her own wit. He was frowning, which she took to mean he didn’t understand. “It’s from a movie that was really-”

“I know. I saw it.” Steve told her shortly. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

When the image started appearing on the screen, Steve felt sick. He couldn’t place it or put a finger on what was wrong. But something was. Natasha stepped back and stood next to him and they waited. He watched the little camera on the top of the screen turn and look at them both.

“Rogers, Stephen.” An eerily similar voice reported. “Born 1918.”

“Romanoff, Natalia Alianovna.” It continued. “Born 1984.”

Natasha frowned at the screen, clearly uneasy. “It’s some kind of recording.”

“I am not a recording, Fraeulein.” The computer told her. They both stiffened. “I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945. But I am alive.”

A small monitor showed a face Steve had hoped to never see again. “You know this thing?”

Steve ignored the accusation in Natasha’s tone and circled the machine. It looked like an old version of any computer Steve had seen, as limited as that experience was. “Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He’s been dead for years.”

“First correction.” The computer said sharply. Steve turned towards it. So it could hear him even if he wasn’t directly in front of it. “I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive. In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body. My mind, however, that was worth saving on 200,000 feet of databanks.”

If it was possible for a computer to sound gleeful, this one did.

“You are standing in my brain.” It told them.

“How did you get here?” Steve asked. When he moved on Schmidt, Zola was in custody.

“Invited.” The computer told him simply. Steve didn’t understand.

Natasha did. And she shifted uncomfortably before explaining. “It was Operation Paperclip after World War II. S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited German scientists with strategic value.”

“They thought I would help their cause-”

There was a physical pain under Steve’s ribcage. This man- this man that Bucky died trying to bring in to American custody- had not only been let free but had been brought to America to live his life under the protection of the American government. Of S.H.I.E.L.D. too. He felt ill. Steve took several deep breaths.

“-I also helped my own.” Zola continued. An image of the Hydra emblem appeared on the screen.

“Hydra died with the Red Skull.” Steve corrected. That was what every file he’d read said.

Zola made a noise that almost sounded like a laugh. It spoke in a condescending voice. “Cut off one head, two more shall takes its place.”

“Prove it.” Steve demanded.

“Accessing archive.” The computer Zola told them.

Another screen came to life. It showed Schmidt’s face and a series of other images from the war and of Hydra forces. Steve made multiple appearances. “Hydra was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. Like a child who does not recognize the danger of fire. What we did not realize was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded and I was recruited. The new Hydra grew. A beautiful parasite inside S.H.I.E.L.D.. For 70 years, Hydra has been secretly feeding crises, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed.”

It was Natasha who broke first, having seen enough of the images of news footage showing a series of accidents and case reports. “That’s impossible, S.H.I.E.L.D. would have stopped you.”

“Accidents will happen.” Zola’s mechanical voice said dismissively. “Hydra created a world so chaotic, that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once the purification of humanity is complete, Hydra’s new world order will arise. We won, Captain.”

The last word was a taunt. Steve’s jaw clenched. The images switched to pictures of him. Newspaper articles from when he fell. And then the one he’d done when he had been rescued.

“Your death amounts to the same as your life.” Zola told him. “A zero sum.”

What Steve heard was: Everyone you have loved and lost in your life have died for nothing.

The rage in his chest rocketed up so quickly that Steve didn’t have the opportunity to tamp down his response. His hand connected with the monitor and shattered it, leaving a ripple of destruction around the circular point of impact. For a second Steve thought that was the end of Zola. But his image just moved to another screen. Steve forced himself to focus.

“As I was saying.” Zola said slowly. Steve snarled.

“What’s on this drive?” He asked. The computer hummed.

“Project Insight requires insight.” Zola explained. “So I wrote an algorithm.”

“What kind of algorithm? What does it do?” Natasha questioned.

“The answer to your question is fascinating.” Zola admitted. “Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it.”

There was a mechanical grinding noise and they turned to see two thick steel doors closing over the elevator. Steve launched his shield but it was too late and the doors snapped shut. Natasha check the tracker in her hand and winced.

“Steve, we’ve got a bogey.” She told him. “Short range ballistic. 30 seconds tops.”

Steve needed a plan. “Who fired it?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.” Natasha admitted. She didn’t look particularly surprised.

“I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain.” The computer Zola said, happier than it had any right to. Natasha yanked out the drive while Steve searched for an appropriate hiding place. The only thing he could find was a grate in the floor for utilities. “Admit it. It’s better this way. We are, both of us, out of time.”

The explosion happened so quickly that he barely had time to cover them with the shield before the fire and debris started raining down on them. It was deafeningly loud. Natasha curled as close to him as possible and Steve tried to cover her as best he could. Of the two of them, he could heal from the damage. She was more vulnerable.

It lasted several seconds as the building above them came crashing down in a pile of steel and concrete. Their saving grace was the trench they were in had been covered by a large concrete support beam that kept it from filling and blocking them in. Once the fire stopped, Steve was hurt but could move. He moved as much as he could and tried to help Natasha. At first she didn’t move and Steve had to check that she was even breathing. Once he knew she was alive, he lifted her into his arms to get her out of the rubble. They needed to move, and fast. S.H.I.E.L.D. would have a team standing by to confirm any casualties from the strike.

Sure enough, even as he climbed out of the pile, planes flew overhead. Natasha groaned in his arms.

“Are you hurt?” He asked her. She glared.

“Not all of us can walk that off getting hit by a missile.” She told him weakly.

“I’m getting us out of here.” He assured her. “Just stay awake.”

“Please tell me the truck’s not damaged.” Natasha mumbled. “I am not going to be able to walk all of the way back to DC.”

The hood and windshield were both missing. “We can make it work.”

“Where do we even go from here?” Natasha asked as Steve loaded her in to the passenger seat.

“Call Stark?” Steve suggested.

“Retired.” Natasha reminded him.

“You have any better ideas?” Steve asked.

Natasha went to shake her head and groaned. “My only lead is…several long conversations away from viable. The situation was left unresolved when Fury got hit.”

“Situation?” Steve was surprised by her tone.

“It’s complicated.” Natasha said quickly. Then she shrugged. “And above both our clearances.”

“Are those even a thing anymore?” Steve asked.

“Let’s just say it’s personal?” Natasha tried. She sighed at Steve’s frustrated expression. “Please don’t tell me to trust you again.”

Steve shrugged. “Lets say it goes without saying.”

* * *

The truck wouldn’t start. Steve swore so emphatically that Natasha laughed at him weakly.

They had minutes, if not seconds before that team overhead got boots on the ground. Steve couldn’t focus. He wished for the millionth time that he’d had time to grab serum. An engine started to their left and it had them both scattering for cover. Well, Steve took cover. Natasha leaned herself to the side weakly. Steve winced as he stood, his battered body complaining from the near constant abuse. Steve could feel the stiffness in his muscles and was acutely aware of both his leap from the Triskelion elevator and the fact that he had just been hit by a literal missile. The car engine cut off again suddenly and then there was nothing but silence again. But the silence felt sinister now.

“Captain?” It was a female voice. Haughty and foreign. Steve’s stomach plummeted.

“Are you hurt?” The voice called.

“Funny how she assumes we’re alive.” Natasha moaned. “Because it doesn’t feel like it.”

Steve tried to look but couldn’t see anyone in the darkness. But someone was. “I can hear you moving.”

The pain in Steve’s back from crouching was getting too intense. He needed to stand up. Facing whoever was coming from them was just a side bonus. Steve stood, facing them with all the gusto he could manage. Given his past 24 hours, it absolutely was not much. And it wasn’t helped that as soon as he stood and revealed himself, someone appeared right in front of him. Steve jumped backwards, scrambling and hitting rubble that left him back on the ground. He groaned at the inconvenience and glared at their would be attacker. Though, they weren’t doing much attacking.

“Jesus.” Steve swore. “Did you have to portal in to my face?”

Their guest snorted. “I did not, in fact, portal. I walked. Like a human. Sad, I know.”

“Yeah. Sad.” Steve still couldn’t see them because his eyes couldn’t focus.

“You’re not going to be able to see me.” Their guest told them. She leaned down to help Steve up. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her face. He refused to take the hand that she offered. “I’m wearing protection sigils. But I’m here to help.”

Steve snorted. “Help?”

“Your friend appears to be unconscious.” Steve looked back down at Natasha. She was out cold.

Steve knew that whoever it was, was a demon. He didn’t want to trust them. Her protections made it so that Steve could only barely get himself to look at her shoes. But she grabbed Steve by the arm and lifted Natasha with the other.

“The entire base is warded.” She told them. “I can’t be here for much longer. We need to move.”

Steve heard S.H.I.E.L.D. agents approaching. There was no time. “Okay. Lets’ move.”

And then they were running. Steve followed the Demon woman blindly because he couldn’t actually watch where she was running. So he focused on not tripping over his own two feet and let her lead him by his arm to what he sincerely hoped was safety.

* * *

 

She had a large black jeep on the other side of the rubble pile and once they were inside it, Steve felt the pressure on the back of his neck release. He could look over at the demon if he wanted to. She was loading Natasha in to the backseat of the Jeep. Steve made eye contact with her in the rearview mirror but she went back to helping settle Natasha in before hopping in to the driver seat. She had the seat leaned back almost reclining but it still barely fit her pitch black wings. The car seemed too full once she climbed in.

“Time to make a break for it.” She said, smiling excitedly as she shifted the car in to gear.

“Don’t take this the wrong way.” Steve told her. “But what the fuck?”

She laughed. “You’re welcome for saving your life.”

“Who are you?” He asked her.

“I am Imperious Rex.” She intoned it with a sense of gravitas that Steve wasn’t sure it warranted.

“Ok.” He nodded dumbly. “Clearly you know who I am.”

She snorted. “More trouble than you’re worth, so far.”

“Then why did you grab me?” Steve asked her.

“It was the price I paid for a trade. I bring you back in one peace, I get the evidence I need that S.H.I.E.L.D. has been behind the Nephilim hoax the whole time.” She said it gleefully, as if it explained everything and wasn't a non-answer that only offered Steve more unanswered questions.

“What?” He felt a weight drop in his stomach like a stone.

“Oh, it’s even worse than you think.” She waved a dismissive hand while merging. Steve winced.

“I don’t understand.” Steve said finally. “Imperious Rex. I thought you were a Nephilim.”

“You’ll understand when we get there.” She nodded

“There? Where are we going?” Steve asked her. The woman swept on to the highway fast enough to tilt the entire car. “Do we have a plan here?”

“If we worked together we could portal the three of us to a safe place. I’d say back to the doze in D.C. but that’s a literal dumpster fire at the moment. We might have to anyway.” Namorita explained as she flew down the highway. For the speed she was going, she seemed remarkably calm. “We’re not going to be safe in this car for long.”

“Doze?” Steve asked. And then it hit him. Reading D.O.Z. like a word. “Nevermind.”

She shook her head. “Yeah.”

“I can’t portal.” He admitted. That threw a wrench in her plan right there.

“How have you been getting past check points?” She asked him.

“I have an access card. S.H.I.E.L.D. gave it to me.” Steve explained. She raised an eyebrow.

“So you’ve been using Persuasion to stay hidden?” She asked him. Steve’s eyes went wide.

“Um.” He cleared his throat. “No.”

She stared. "Sigils?"

"Nope." Steve shrugged. She looked both horrified and impressed.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Then how have you been fooling S.H.I.E.L.D. exactly?”

"Luck?” Steve shrugged. She snorted.

“No.” She declared finally.

“It’s been two years. More than. And I haven’t been discovered.” Steve told her defensively.

“Haven’t been discovered or haven’t been confronted?” She challenged.

She kept her eyes on the road. Steve swallowed and did the same. He wasn’t driving but he felt like it was the only safe place to look. He noticed that his hands were trembling slightly. And his head was pounding. Both of which was on top of the fact that he felt like he’d been run over by a semitruck. Which, he’d really endured pretty much everything but. It was taking it’s toll since he didn’t have any serum. He wondered absently if she had any.

Steve was struck by the thought that he was about to ask her for serum when he didn’t even know her name. His head whipped to the side and he saw the corner of her mouth tick up. She’d distracted him from that on purpose. ‘I am Imperious Rex’ was probably not what was written on her birth certificate. And she’d never fully answered where she came from or how she knew what Steve was. Or that he’d been in trouble at Camp Lehigh. Steve opened his mouth to ask but even as he did, she held up a hand.

“Namorita.” She said simply. “And we’ll get to the rest in a minute.”

Steve frowned. “How long of a minute?”

“Long enough for you to get some sleep. How long has it been?” Days. But Steve didn’t feel tired.

“I’m fine.” He told her.

It had been almost that long since Steve had seen Bucky too. He hadn’t been at his apartment. Or sleeping. Or anywhere his mind could wander to conjure that particular daydream. Steve stared down at his hands. He needed to think about absolutely anything else.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. was behind the missile strike.” He told Namorita.

“I know.” She nodded.

“How?” He asked. She smirked again.

“I have my ways.” She told him with a shrug. “I’m connected. Haven’t we covered this?”

Steve grumbled.

“You know you’re pretty worthless for a demon, right?” She told him with a laugh.

“What?” Steve snapped his eyes back to her. She was grinning.

“A mess. Can’t portal. Can’t use persuasion. Probably don’t even know your sigils.” She accused. And when Steve blushed instead of admitting she was right, she laughed. It was a loud, bawdy laugh that caused Natasha to stir in the back seat. Steve turned to make sure she was okay. “She’s fine. I gave her something to make her sleep.”

Steve was appalled. “You did what?”

“I wanted to talk. She was in pain. It seemed like a win all around.” Namorita shrugged casually.

“Maybe I will sleep.” Steve said slowly. Namorita raised an eyebrow at him.

She shifted in her seat, giving her wings more room to unfurl behind her. Steve could tell the seats of the car were not situated to be comfortable for her to drive. He almost wanted to offer to take over but even as he considered it, he felt his eyes start to drift clothes and the dense fog drifted over his mind, sending him to sleep.

* * *

Steve woke up with a roaring headache, back pain, and a crick in his neck that practically kept him from seeing straight. It took him a full five minutes to register that not only was the sun rising, but that he was in the back seat and _Natasha_ , of all people, was driving. Steve could see Namorita’s head leaning against the window. She was using her wings to block the sun from glaring in to her face as she tried to sleep. He had been knocked out for hours, somehow, and had passed all of it without dreaming. No pain or nightmares. And, as far as he remembered, no late night corporeal visitors.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” Natasha teased. Steve frowned. 

“I didn’t realize how tired I was, I guess.” He hadn’t felt tired at all, actually. But his mind was foggy.

“Our friend has a propensity for encouraging a healthy sleep cycle.” Natasha quipped.

Steve had expected her to sound angrier about it. But she sounded almost…impressed?

“She has a plan.” Natasha continued.

“He’s not going to like it.” Namorita grumbled from behind her wings.

“ _I_ don’t like it.” Natasha reminded her. Namorita scoffed.

“Well, he’ll like it even less.” She elaborated. Steve saw Natasha roll her eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because you are the worst demon to ever demon in the history of demoning.” She grumbled at him. But Steve couldn’t argue with her. Natasha smirked at him in the rearview mirror. Steve watched the road, trying to quell the nauseous feeling in his stomach.

“Why are we headed back to D.C.?” Steve asked, sitting up in his seat suddenly.

“Ask her.” Natasha grumbled.

“I said no to the D.O.Z.” He reminded Namorita.

“Technically, you just said you couldn’t portal there.” She shrugged. “Yeah, it’s a mess. But that’s where I know people aren’t trying to kill us. So that’s we’re heading unless you have a better idea.”

Steve huffed but thought about it for a minute. “As it happens, I do.”

* * *

Sam was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, stirring some eggs and pretending like everything wasn’t completely weird. Steve had barely been managing complete sentences since they’d shown up and Natasha had quickly asked for a shower. Steve thought she needed to compose herself. The entire drive to Sam’s house she’d been curled into the backseat seat, alive but silent and still but clearly not there with them. Not all the way.

Steve was thankful that Sam hadn’t asked any questions but was anxious to explain himself. As Sam went to put the eggs over the stove, he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s a weird situation. I’m sorry that we crashed in on you like this-”

“Man, I am not asking.” Sam laughed and stirred the eggs.

“You’re not?” Steve asked.

“Not until I have both coffee and food in my system.” Sam told him, not even looking up from the stove. “I figure two Avengers and a hot chick with wings land on my doorstep and tell me they’re in trouble, I should just do as I’m asked.”

Namorita had, at least, portaled somewhere else with the promise to return soon. More had not exactly been merrier. Her displeasure with a hide-out not within a D.O.Z. hadn’t exactly faded as they’d gotten closer in to the city. Her displeasure with Steve general attitude towards his own demon abilities was even worse, if the was possible. They remained committed but reluctant allies.

Steve didn’t know how to react. It was part gratitude and part awkward embarassment. “Thanks.”

“Sounds like your friend is out of the shower.” Sam nodded his head in the direction of the hall. “I think it’s your turn now.”

“I smell that bad?” Steve laughed and sniffed at his shirt.

“Like burnt plastic.” Sam nodded with a grimace and laughed with him.

“Natasha’s going to be out of the bathroom in a second.” Steve was still fumbling and unsure. He should just go shower but felt like he needed to stop making an ass of himself first. Finally, when Sam didn’t respond with anything other than a nod, Steve did back away into the hallway. “I’ll be quick.”

“You better.” Sam teased. “Breakfast is in ten and my cooking waits for no man. Not even you.”

Natasha was just out of the shower when Steve walked in. She was sat on the bed with a towel, drying it as best as she could without a blow-dryer. She didn’t say anything to him and barely reacted to his presence. Steve stepped into the bathroom and was surprised by how rough his own reflection looked. There was a mark on his cheek that he couldn’t tell if it was dirt or a bruise. He flipped on the water and grabbed a washcloth to check.

He caught sight of Natasha in the mirror as he was cleaning his face. She wasn’t drying her hair anymore but had one hand on her chest playing with her necklace and was staring into middle distance, like she had been in the car. She was thousands of miles away. As soon as Steve turned towards her she started drying her hair again.

“You okay?” He asked her. Because it didn’t look like she was.

“Yeah.” She nodded. Steve sat across from her and stared her down.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked her. She didn’t say anything. She stared quietly before sighing.

“When I first joined S.H.I.E.L.D. I thought I was going straight.” She told him. She looked away and kept her mouth a straight line. “But I guess I just traded in the KGB for Hydra.”

Steve didn’t say anything back. Natasha pursed her lips and looked down.

“I thought I knew whose lies I was telling.” She admitted. She gave him a small sad, sarcastic grin. “But I guess I can’t tell the difference anymore.”

Steve fought to keep from smirking. “There’s a chance you might be in the wrong business.”

It almost got her to laugh, which had been his goal. Her mouth fell open slightly in surprise and the corners of it tilted upwards. She only maintained it for a second before letting the edges fall back down, turning her mouth into a blank mask. She regarded him for a moment.

“I owe you.” She said finally. And Steve knew that for Natasha, that meant something.

“It’s okay.” Steve shook his head. Natasha didn’t take debts lightly, Steve know.

“If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life- now you be honest with me- would you trust me to do it?” She was serious. Steve couldn’t make another joke. She waited for him to answer and he realized that she was actually nervous.

“I would now.” Steve insisted. But then, because he couldn’t help it. “And I’m always honest.”

She smiled at his grin, suddenly brighter. They both relaxed. “Well, you seem pretty damn chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing.”

“Well, I guess I just like to know who I’m fighting.” And knowing exactly who was on his side.

Even if that answer surprised him.

Natasha nodded slightly. Steve wished he trusted her more before, though he did now believe she had nothing to do with Fury’s death. And that she was honestly distraught over it and the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t the redemption she’d been gunning for. She was a good person. Steve knew that. When Sam came to the doorway, both Steve and Natasha were sitting quietly.

“I made breakfast.” He told them. Steve felt his eyes on him. “If you guys eat that sort of thing.”

Steve almost laughed at the joke. The VA fiasco seemed so long ago. Sam walked away and left the two of them in a silence that was suddenly awkward. Natasha was staring at him and he was waiting for her, because she was clearly trying to decide whether or not to say something. He could be patient. Finally, she looked up at the ceiling and forced the words out.

“I’m not going to make you date anyone.” Natasha said suddenly. She leaned back and folded her arms, smiling at him softly. “And it was never really about dating, really.”

Steve shrugged but looked between her and where Sam had walked away. “That’s…not what that is.”

“Sure.” Natasha snorted. She waited a beat. “I’m just saying. This doesn’t have to be a coming out party. That doesn’t have to be what this is.”

Steve sighed before shrugging again. “I have spent so long thinking I didn’t have a choice.”

“You have them now.”

“So people keep saying.” Steve shook his head and stood. When he took off his shirt you could see the scars on his back, messy and jagged from where he cut himself. Natasha blanched. “But if one of your choices means losing everything, means being rejected by society, is it really a choice?”

Natasha shook her head. “You don’t have to be Captain America. You could be Steve Rogers.”

“I might not have to be Captain America. But Steve Rogers died a long time ago.” He shrugged, yanking the shirt back over his head. “Lets eat. Namorita will be back soon. And then we have a lot to discuss.”

“Back to work.” Natasha nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	20. We're Not Gonna Take It

Steve was surprised to find Namorita at the table by herself instead of Sam. Steve paused, suddenly unsure of himself. Namorita wasn’t eating any of it, only stirring some eggs around her plate like a child that didn’t want to eat their broccoli. When Steve walked in, she glanced up at him, looked towards the back door, and shoved her plate in Steve’s direction.

“Eat those.” She told him. “Quickly.”

Steve didn’t see the point in questioning her, so he didn't. He grabbed the fork and ate the eggs like she asked.

“Thanks.” She tanked the plate back from her just as the door slammed open. Sam looked at the plate.

“Couldn’t keep them down, huh?” Sam asked her. Namorita held up her empty plate.

“I ate them, ma, see?” She mocked. Sam rolled his eyes and looked at Steve.

“How’d she convince you to eat them?” He asked. Steve, confused, looked between the two of them.

“She….asked?” He was clearly missing some pieces to this interaction. Sam, frowning, walked back over to his bowl of eggs, got a heaping scoop, and dropped them on Namorita’s plate. When she refused to take the fork back from him, he held it out patiently until the grabbed it.

“Thanks, Captain.” She said mockingly.

“Are you twelve?” He asked her. Namorita showed him a mouth full of half-chewed egg.

“Thirteen, actually.” She corrected with a wink. Steve felt dirty.

She still didn’t eat the eggs, but played a game of pushing them around her plate and slowly chopping the serving in to smaller and smaller portions. But with Sam right there, she didn’t get away with anything. So when she looked up and saw him staring at her intently, she huffed and slammed the fork down in exasperation.

“That was the bet.” Sam told her, smirking. “You lost. One spoonful of eggs.”

Steve made a face. “Really?”

“Cheesy eggs.” Namorita groaned.

Steve looked down at the huge serving on his fork. Sure, they tasted like ash. But it was still food.

“He eats them.” Sam gestured to Steve. Steve hadn’t even considered that he shouldn’t.

“Steve gets to remember what real eggs taste like.” She defended. Namorita hadn’t picked the fork back up. “I don’t have that luxury.”

But when Sam just continued to stare at her, she lifted the fork and ate half of the scoop in one bite. And made exaggerated gagging noises the whole time she swallowed it. Then repeated the process. Steve had to laugh at the dramatics. Natasha had sat down next to him halfway through it and, while not smiling or laughing, she relaxed a little more in to her chair and took a few scoops of berries from the bowl in front of her. Sam noticed and pushed a thing of yogurt her way, which she accepted with a silent nod of gratitude.

“We’re in a cluster.” Natasha said into the silence, shattering it entirely.

“Correction.” Namorita held up a finger. “You’re in a cluster. I’m right where I want to be.”

Sam frowned. “Which is?”

“Alive, not in prison, and with eyes on those two.” She gestured towards Steve and Natasha.

“Am I the only one who remembers the riots?” Sam asked her, looking confused. “Literally less than two days ago. Half of Manhattan is in chaos. All of Los Angeles. Chicago. D.C., too. Is this ringing any little demon bells in your head at all?”

Namorita sipped some water. “ _That_ is not a new cluster. And it’s one I can solve.”

“Solve?” Steve asked her. She shrugged.

“Make it better, at least.” She admitted.

“And you’re not going to tell us who wants you to keep an eye on us?” Natasha asked. She looked uneasy with the idea. “I can think of a few people that could have hired you. And I’m okay with zero of them being behind this.”

Namorita smirked. “I guess you’ll have to trust me, princess.”

“Then why not take us to them?” She challenged.

“Because I don’t know where they are.” She shrugged simply. “I was told to go dark and wait.”

Natasha huffed. “I don’t know that we have the time to wait.”

“Then let’s focus on our next steps.” Steve interrupted the back and forth, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Taking down Hydra.” Natasha nodded.

“Calming down the riots in the city.” Sam cut in.

“Stopping the helicarriers. Project Insight.” Steve corrected them both. Sam looked confused. “Or else millions of innocent people are going to die.”

“I guess I’m going to need to ask, after all.” Sam told Steve, eyes going wide.

* * *

 

“Demon.” Sam was pointing at Steve. Steve’s chin jutted out. He wanted Sam to look slightly less disgusted, even at the same time knowing he had every right to feel betrayed. “Captain America is a demon?”

Steve nodded. “I am. Not Captain America.”

“Man.” Sam started laughing. Namorita snorted.

“He’s a shit one if you ask me.” She interjected. She was watching Steve eat in disgust. “He eats food. Can’t do anything. Doesn’t even know basic sigils. Doesn’t _use_ basic sigils.”

“Neither do I.” Natasha pointed out.

“Yeah, well, you can’t use them.” Namorita snapped.

“I don’t want to use them.” Steve said quietly. “I can’t use them. I can’t _be_ a demon. I just am one.”

Sam was the first one to find words. “I thought you weren’t one though.”

Steve rubbed a hand through his hair and groaned.

“It’s complicated.” Natasha explained. “It’s not an either or thing for him. It’s kind of a sliding scale.”

Namorita rolled her eyes. “What, on Tuesday’s he’s allowed to let his wings out?”

Steve swallowed, exchanging a look with Natasha. She shrugged and Steve stood, tugging the cotton T-Shirt he had on over his head. You could still see the scars through his white tank. “I don’t have wings. I was getting regrowth but I started taking AVX to stop it.”

Namorita’s face was a mask, but her eyes drilled on the scars. She nodded. “Smart.”

“You’re the first person I’ve talked to that feels that way.” Steve told her.

“I’m probably the first Demon you’ve asked.” She was. Steve nodded.

“We get demons like you sometimes. Things don’t grow right. Or break. Or they’re vain. It varies.” She shrugged casually and continued to push eggs around on her plate. It had been joined by a scoop of berries she also wasn’t touching. “AVX does something in our veins. Soothes it. Lets them feel what the pain was blocking them from.”

She noticed they were staring, shrugged off her serious expression to grin. “Also gets you high.”

“It’s not. It’s-I-um.” Steve sputtered while Natasha and Sam laughed.

“Captain America gets high.” Sam hooted with laughter.

“Someone alert the Washington Times.” Natasha smirked.

“I could get you more.” Namorita told him. He saw Natasha go still, watching him.

“Please don’t.” Steve urged her. “I’m not taking it. I can be ‘me’ without it.”

Namorita regarded him coolly. “But can you be Captain America without it?”

“Of course.” Sam snorted as if it was a stupid question. Steve wasn’t so sure. “He _is_ Captain America.”

Steve just smiled over at Sam. He was taking it more casually than Steve had thought he would. The whole thing had barely phased him at all. But Steve thought they were both wrong. Steve _could_ be Captain America without it. He might have failed Fury, but he could make that right. He could take down Hydra from within S.H.I.E.L.D. and do honor to his memory.

“We need a plan to attack Hydra.” Steve said, interrupting a debate about Steve’s ability to lift a 747.

“We need a specific target.” Sam declared. “Hydra is big. Elusive. But if we can pinpoint one person.”

“Someone we can get to.” Namorita agreed.

Steve shrugged. But Natasha was nodding as she considered the options. “So, the question is, who at S.H.I.E.L.D. could launch a domestic missile strike.”

Steve’s mind immediately went to the one man he knew wanted him dead. “Pierce.”

“Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world.” But Natasha didn’t agree with him, she just stood and started pacing. Steve thought about.

“But he’s not working alone.” Steve declared. “Zola’s algorithm was on the Lemurian Star.”

He could almost see the lightbulb go on over Natasha’s head. “So was Jasper Sitwell.”

“So,” Steve sighed as she realized their position, “the real question is, how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. officer in broad daylight”

* * *

 

“Should we go over the plan again? Did we really need two people with wings?” Namorita called over the coms, voice tinged with mock frustration. “I feel like one is fine. Two is overkill. And really what is-”

“Status?” Steve called over their radio, interrupting her.

“He’s sitting- do you actually sit like that?” Natasha interrupted herself to question Sam over the intercom. “You’re like every obnoxious guy on the metro ever.”

Sam huffed. “I’m being casual.”

“ _That’s_ casual?” Natasha challenged. Steve laughed to himself. He couldn’t even see Sam.

“Is he in position?” Steve asked.

“If you’d call manspreading a position.” Natasha quipped.

“It’s an intimidation tactic.” Sam defended. “I am _cool_. I am _relaxed_.”

The line cut off and Steve laughed again. “Oh, he’s sitting like a tool isn’t he?”

“Totally.” Namorita confirmed. Steve heard Natasha snort over the com link.

“Should we really be talking this much over a non-secure line?” Sam challenged. But his voice came out almost like a whine and he just got more laughter from the rest of them. “I expected that from the lady who doesn’t eat grits. But I thought you two were the professionals. I guess I’m going to have to show you how it’s done.”

“Don’t spread any further.” Natasha cautioned. “You’ll pull something.”

“Ya’ll shut up. Target is exiting the building now.” Sam snapped.

“Wait for him to be alone. Then call. We programmed it so it should appear as if Alexander Pierce is calling. He’ll answer.” Steve let Natasha give the instructions. She could see Sam from her position. Namorita was remote, unable to enter the Human Only Zone Sitwell operated out of. Steve was at their secondary position, ready and waiting. He heard the phone call over the radio and prepared himself.

“Marked the target. Sam, threaten him if he won’t move his cowardly ass.” Natasha called in.

“Breathe, Nat.” Steve reminded her. He got indistinct grumbling in response.

“They’re headed to the car.” She told him finally.

“Tell me when to move.” Namorita reported. “I’m ready and waiting.”

Steve moved from his location to where Sam was dropping Steve off. Steve pulled the grey car- Sam’s- around to the corner and waited. He recognized the exact moment Sitwell recognized him. His face contorted through a series of ugly, twisted reactions before settling on red-faced barely contained rage. Steve found it almost amusing.

“Agent Sitwell.” Steve nodded calmly.

“I should call Pierce.” He screamed. “I will. I’ll report you. You think S.H.I.E.L.D. can’t convince the world that you’re a traitor? We’ve already got the entire organization turned against you-”

Sam may or may not have intentionally knocked Sitwell’s head against the door frame as he shoved him into the car. He waited for Sam to get in and then peeled away. Cameras would spot him eventually if they weren’t careful. Steve drove the three blocks to the building Natasha had perched on top of. It was an almost entirely vacant office building with no witnesses. Steve forced Sitwell out of the car while Sam moved to park it.

“Where’s he going?” Sitwell asked. “He’s leaving me with you? Who is he? He’s dead. _Dead_. And I mean it. Once Pierce hears about this you’re all as good as corpses.”

“He talks to much.” Natasha was standing in the staircase waiting for them. Sitwell gasped.

“I should have _known you were involved._ ” Sitwell screeched. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Let’s count that as a good thing.” She told him. Steve shoved Sitwell up the stairs. “Now talk.”

“No.” Sitwell refused. He refused for six entire floors. Around the seventh floor he started to cave, and by eight he was hemming and hawing weakly. Steve knocked him onto the roof with a blow that made even Natasha wince. Steve held back and waited for him to regain his footing before moving forward.

“Tell me about Zola’s algorithm.” Steve demanded.

“Never heard of it.” Sitwell claimed. Steve grabbed him but the lapels of his jacket and lifted him up.

“We’re ready here, Cap.” Sam called on the radio. Steve felt Natasha smirk behind him.

“What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?” Steve asked. He crowded Sitwell up to the roof’s edge.

“I was throwing up. I get seasick.” Sitwell claimed mockingly. He paused and looked down at Steve’s hands. He scoffed. “Is this little display meant to insinuate that you’re gonna throw me off the roof? Because it’s really not your style, Rogers.”

Steve let go of Sitwell’s jacket and nodded. “You’re right. It’s not. It’s hers.”

In one movement, just like they’d planned, Steve stepped to the side and Natasha stepped forward. She delivered one solid kick to Sitwell’s chest and the man went tumbling over the parapet of the roof. Sitwell disappeared and Natasha just stood there thinking. For a moment Steve was concerned but then she turned to him.

“Oh, wait. What about that girl from Accounting? Laura…?” Steve scoffed. Natasha just waited.

“Lillian.” Steve supplied. “Lip piercing, right?”

“Yeah. She’s cute, right?” Natasha asked. Steve shrugged. Lillian was not only a proud and vocal lesbian, she was married. Steve wondered if Natasha forgot those points or was suggesting Steve try on 21st century adultery. There was wanting Steve to ‘get back into the world’ and then there was…that.

“Yeah. I’m not ready for that.” Steve excused, laughing to himself.

Sitwell came screaming over the top of the building, shooting up into the sky before falling heavily onto the roof. Sam landed, wings completely unfolded. They all walked up to wear Sitwell was still curled, panicking on the roof. He held up a hand towards Steve and took several deep breaths before finally talking. Steve barely had to question him before he spilled the real purpose of the Insight helicarriers- to eliminate Hydra’s enemies. All of them. Specifically starting with D.O.Z.'s in Manhattan and Washington, D.C. that had been deemed 'problematic'.

To rid humanity of the curse of demon existence.

Steve shuddered at the thought, stretching out the stiffness in his shoulders.

“We need to stop them from launching.” Steve told Natasha.

“We need to get to them first.” Natasha corrected him, wincing. “That’s going to be the hardest part.”

“They can stop you guys?” Sam asked. Steve meant to laugh but it came out as a scoff.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is ready for anything.” He told Sam. “Including attacks by its own _gifted_ agents.”

Natasha nodded in agreement and then shrugged. “Trust isn’t in the employee handbook.”

Namorita called in over the coms with their escape route, another car waiting just outside the H.O.Z. fueled up and ready to make a break for it. Steve and Natasha headed for the elevator but they left Sitwell sitting next to where Sam was standing, glaring down at him angrily. When he realized he was being left he started to panic, crawling after them desperately.

“Where are you going?” He called. “You can’t leave me here.”

Steve smirked. “We’ll meet you at the car.”

“You’re taking the shortcut.” Natasha told him with a grin.

The elevator door shut right as Sam launched with a screaming Sitwell in his hands.

* * *

 

Steve knew it was the assassin the moment something landed on the roof with a thud. Nobody else would, or could, make a tactical approach on a moving vehicle from above. At least, not one that wasn’t several tons of bombs. Sitwell was yanked for the car before anyone could cover him and that was followed by a series of bullets through the hood. They were trapped as long as they were in the car.

Steve slammed the brakes and sent the assassin flying down the road. It didn’t seem to stop him but at least bought them a few seconds. And not moving meant all the other cars were hazards for their attackers, not them.

At least until the Humvee slammed in to the back of their car.

And then the assassin yanked out their steering wheel. One handed.

Namorita swooped down from above to help provide cover. But the assassin grabbed her by the wing and yanked her to the ground. She screeched, wounded, and  landed in a rolling tumble on to the crowded highway. A grey sedan had to swerve to miss running right over her. Steve watched in horror from the car. They needed to get out. They needed to run. If they stayed in the car they were dead.

Steve forced themselves out on to the highway, sliding on the car door just in time to avoid impact. The glided just car enough to get cover behind other cars and clamored to their feet quickly. Natasha was at Steve’s side.

“It’s him.” She reported grimly. Steve just stared at her.

“I realized.” He said finally. He went to tell her to take cover when he realized a projectile was hurtling their way. He had just enough time to force Natasha out of the way before the rocket grenade made impact with his shield and sent him flying. Which he continued to do right over the overpass railing and on to the street below. It was Steve’s luck that he managed to end up not just falling thirty feet, but ending it with slamming through the glass window of a city bus and landing amongst its passengers.

He could hear the gunfire from up on the overpass. But he couldn’t get back up there. He felt weak. The other passengers left him, presumably unconscious, on the bus as they unloaded themselves. Steve couldn’t get himself to move.

Steve was spurred in to action by the rapid fire of a machine gun decimating the bus that innocent civilians were still unloading themselves from. Instinct- and rage- took over. Steve worked through men he recognized as being from Strike Team. It should have been harder to take them down. But Namorita and Sam covered the men left on the overpass. Natasha was keeping the assassin busy.

He watched as she got hit, went down.

The assassin moved in for the kill and Steve leapt, mid-fight, to stop him. Natasha. He needed to be fast enough. Steve pushed his legs as fast as they would moved and ended up slamming in to the man with everything he had. It barely seemed to faze him. He countered every move Steve made and then countered with one of his own.

Steve sent him flying over his shoulder, scattering back twenty feet to give himself a moment to breathe. He just needed to give authorities time to get there. He might be a fugitive from S.H.I.E.L.D. but in the battle between shadowy assassin and “kind of on the bad side of a super-villain”, Steve figured he was okay.

He hadn’t realized the mask had come off until the assassin turned to face him with a snarl, ready to attack Steve again. Steve was crouched, ready for it, but felt the blow of recognition knocking him off balance. He stood up straight, dropping his guard.

He knew that face.

“Bucky?” He words caught in his throat.

His first instinct was to check his pocket. The serum was still there. He hadn’t taken it. So how? How was it possible. The man had the long hair that his delusions had. And the dark stubble of a neglected beard. The somewhat crazed set in his saw, as if he was attached to a live wire. Steve remembered it from the nights that Bucky was at his worse. It was him. Except the eyes. Steve looked at the eyes and they weren’t familiar. They were different. Unfamiliar.

How could Steve be having this delusion right now? He blinked his eyes and tried to focus.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” The assassin snarled. Steve focused on the face but it didn’t change. It was him.

The assassin raised his gun to shoot but Steve couldn’t force himself to move. It was Bucky. Bucky. His Bucky. Here. And they'd been fighting, which proved that he was very solid. Real. If Steve hadn't personally felt the fist connect to his jaw- repeatedly- he'd never  Either Steve had gone completely insane or it was real. Vaguely, Steve remembered wishing to Bucky that it was real. Saying he would trade any amount of pain.

He regretted that now.

Namorita was the one who saved him, swooping down and kicking Bucky out of the way. And then Natasha launched another rocket grenade when he tried to regain his footing. Steve tried to tell them to stop. He wanted to tell them that he’d asked for it. Begged for it almost nightly. Bucky was here. He’d take the pain. That was the deal. He’d made it.

He didn’t care how Bucky was alive. He just cared that he was.

But then Bucky was gone. Disappeared in avoiding Natasha’s blast. Running away from him.

Steve was still processing it as Strike Team arrived, screaming in with sirens and lights blaring. And there was Rumlow screaming for him to drop his shield. Steve hadn’t realized he was still holding it. He was barely registering anything other than the repeated chorus of ‘Bucky’ and ‘Alive’ and ‘Hydra’ on a constant loop.

Bucky was alive.

Bucky was alive and it was real.

Bucky was alive and a Hydra assassin.

Bucky was alive because Hydra did something to him.

Bucky was alive and with Hydra.

 

It felt as if the ground removed itself from beneath Steve’s feet. He lost all of the feeling in his fingers and toes. His sensations reduced down to a pinprick. Steve felt the cold metal of the gun pressed to the back of his head. He knew it was there. But it didn’t feel real. It felt like it was happening to someone else and he just happened to be experiencing it for them. Like a dream. His chest moved up and down rapidly so he was aware that he was gasping for air, but the distance beyond his fingertips eluded him. He couldn’t focus that far. He knew that they were surrounded. He could hear both Natasha and Sam shouting as they were apprehended.

“Put the gun down.” He heard Rumlow order. “Not here.”

It was Bucky. The assassin was Bucky. The man who shot Nick. Alive. Here. Steve’s whole body ached.

“Not here.” Rumlow repeated, this time more sharply. Steve heard someone holster a weapon.

There was a screech. Something, and Steve hated to think of it this way, inhuman that pierced the air and the haze around Steve for a brief moment. He could only assume that meant Namorita had been brought down. Steve swallowed. He should care. Really, he should care. But his mind was a swirling maze where the only thing he could see was Bucky Barnes staring at him with a stranger’s eyes. No matter how hard he tried to see anything else, he couldn’t.

It didn’t make sense. Bucky was Hydra? His brain just couldn’t process it. It couldn’t be real. He’d hit his head. He was dreaming. Maybe this was just another delusion. Brain stew, right? He did feel hot. Sick. His stomach definitely felt sick. There was a tightness in his chest. It was the only thing that made sense to him. Bucky died in 1945. He fell from a train in Switzerland while on an op to capture Arnim Zola.

Steve had never gone to look for him.

Steve had never even gone to his grave.

Steve didn’t even know where he was buried.

Steve leaned to the side and was sick all over the sidewalk. Several of Rumlow’s men jumped backwards in disgust as vomit hit their shoes. Rumlow himself clocked Steve upside the head with a baton of some kind. Steve barely felt it. The impact forced him forward but he barely registered it. His mind was working through possibilities. If Bucky hadn’t died on the train, they could have found him. S.H.I.E.L.D. could’ve found him but nobody looked. Steve didn’t look. Hydra found him instead. How long was he in the ice before they did? How long had Bucky been a Hydra agent?

Rumlow forced thick metal cuffs around Steve’s hands- a S.H.I.E.L.D. invention for this specific eventuality- and forced Steve to stand. His brain wasn’t working properly and his legs wouldn’t work. His knees buckled twice on the way to the car. They shoved him towards the back with two agents, Sam, and Natasha. He retched once more outside the doors and was struck again for his trouble.

He laid sprawled on the floor of the van for a moment before he was forced onto one of the seats. With a moment a clarity he realized everyone was staring at him as if he’d grown a second head. Steve was barely fighting back tears as he settled into the seat. They were looking at him like he was crazy. Steve almost hoped it was a complete psychotic break. Anything but real. He prayed to any god that might be listening that it wasn’t real. 

He looked up and saw Natasha, pale and wide eyed, staring at him with her mouth agape.

“You saw him, right?” He asked her. She was leaning against Sam. But her eyes followed Steve.

“Saw who?” She asked him. Steve slouched, putting his head in his hands.

“It really was a ghost.” He told Natasha. He laughed humorlessly at the irony. She eyed him wearily.

“What?” She asked.

“He should be dead.” He snapped. His previous cloudy mind went directly to infuriated.

“What?” She asked him again.

"Did you know?” Steve snarled at Natasha. Natasha seemed barely lucid enough to register what Steve was telling her. “It was Bucky. Did you see him? Did you know that he was alive?”

“Steve.” Natasha hissed through clenched teeth. She was leaned back against the wall tiredly. 

“Did you know?” He asked her again. He was staring at her but her eyes were squeezed shut.

“Steve.” She said it louder this time, angrier. Steve paused and looked down at his hands. The anger fled and left him with this gaping emptiness in his chest. Natasha didn’t know. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t even _looked_. For a moment he thought he was going to be sick again.

“We saw him.” Sam said softly. Natasha nodded.

“It was him.” Steve said softly. His chest ached. “He looked right at me and he didn’t know me.” 

Sam shook his head. “How is that even possible? It was like seventy years ago.” 

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ’43 and Zola experimented on him.” He rambled as if it wasn’t the only thing he’d been focused on for the last fifteen minutes. As if he wasn’t absolutely certain what had happened to him. “Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must’ve found him and…”  

“None of that’s your fault, Steve.” Natasha said weakly. She had trouble holding herself up.  

But Steve knew better. They hadn’t even looked for Buck’s body for more than two days. And since Steve had woken up, he’d done nothing but follow some ghost version of Bucky in his head instead of trying to find the real one. He hadn’t even tried to find Bucky’s family. 

“Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.” He said softly.  Steve could have been looking for him. 

Bucky was real. Bucky was alive. Bucky was real. Bucky was alive.

Did that mean Steve wasn’t crazy?

* * *

 

Steve was barely paying attention to what was going on when the action happened. One moment Sam was trying to take care of Natasha’s bullet wound and the next, the guard was pulling off it’s helmet to reveal Maria Hill. She spared Steve a pitying look for one moment before gesturing to Sam. 

“Who’s he?” She asked.

“A friend.” Steve said simply. Sam smiled tightly but they all focused on their next move.

Fifteen minutes later they were safely in the back of Maria’s drop van- which had first aid Sam used to help Natasha. She was weak but she would be fine. Or, she would make it to wherever they were headed to next. Steve had managed to stop thinking about himself long enough to help Sam patch her up. He apologized about it around a hundred times. Maria pulled away from the curb. The first time Natasha grabbed his hand, Steve thought it was pain from going over the bumps. But she didn’t let go.

Natasha grabbed him even harder, forcing him to look down at her.

“I didn’t know.” She said firmly. Her face had a sheen of sweat but she looked determined. “I promise I didn’t know. I had no idea.”

“I believe you.” Steve told her. Natasha nodded a few times and relaxed, closing her eyes.

“Should she be sleeping?” Sam asked. Neither of them knew.

“Let her lay down but keep her conscious.” Maria called back to them. “We’re about five miles out. And we have a team on site that’s very proficient with bullet wounds.”

Steve and Sam exchanged a glance because he turned back to her. “I’m sorry, what?”

Maria didn’t explain anything but turned off of the highway and onto a mixture dirt and gravel road. Steve couldn’t see where she was going but felt the change in the pavement. Natasha winced again, looking up at Steve.

“I feel a little better already.” She claimed. He snorted.

“Oh, yeah.” Steve deadpanned. “You’ll be back to catching missiles in no time.”

She winced. “I think I’ll leave that to you for the time being.”

Maria yanked them off of the highway and on to a side street to avoid a roadblock. Steve swallowed and looked up to where the sunroof was open to the sky above. He half expected Namorita to be flying above the car. Maria caught his look.

“I wasn’t able to save your friend.” She said quietly. “I didn’t plan on them separating you.”

Steve just nodded and let his head rest against the back wall of the van.

“We’re five minutes out.” She told him, changing the subject. Steve just nodded, not thinking about it. But then he sat up and looked at her intently.

“I’m sorry.” He started, hesitated, and started again. “But five minutes out from where.”

Maria just snorted. “Apologies, Captain. Your day is only about to get weirder.”

Steve wished that sounded like something other than a threat. He sighed tiredly. “Can it not?”

* * *

 

Somehow, weirder did not even begin to cover it. The old dam was almost entirely abandoned except for the small team that met them at the entrance and hurried them inside. Natasha went first, followed by a few people in medical scrubs. Steve followed behind with Sam, both of them moving a slow shocked stumble that was equal parts pain and exhaustion.

As they came in to one of the dam’s operations rooms, Namorita sat there, uninjured, as if that wasn’t completely surprised, pointing emphatically to a round sigil on her shoulders proudly. “C-O-P’s can’t touch me. This is why you’ve got to know your sigils, man.”

“She’s uninjured, mostly.” A small doctor from beside her reported with a role of his eyes. But he was laughing at her good naturedly. “Cartilage damage and muscle strain. Nothing permanent.”

Namorita sighed. “I keep saying that you’re ignoring my emotional trauma.”

“And I keep telling you that’s not my area of expertise.” He reminded her.

Steve was not in the mood for jokes. At all. She seemed to realize this from the way Steve wavered weakly on his feet without laughing. She faltered and stood, the stiffness with which she dad that betrayed a lot more pain than she had been letting on at first. She stepped to Steve and looked him directly in the eyes.

“You’re about to go all melancholy.” She told him.

“What?” Steve was taken aback.

“Don’t.” She repeated. Something pressed in to his hands. Steve looked down at two clear vials.

“How?” He wanted to say no. He wanted to be strong enough to give them back to her. But he curled them in to his fist and said nothing else, just staring at her with wide, surprised eyes. Steve wanted to not feel. He wanted the emptiness that came from not being on the serum. But the serum would bring him Bucky. His Bucky. Whole. Awake. Steve couldn’t say no that.

“Hide them.” She mouthed. And then, more loudly, “Hide. Them.”

Steve shoved them in to his pocket without thinking. “Than-”

“Don’t thank me until you see what’s behind door number 2.” She told him, wincing slightly.

That didn’t make Steve very helpful.

When Door #2 ended up being a very much alive Nick Fury, Steve understood why. His own emotions didn’t know what to do with the situation. It was equal measure betrayal and relief. Taking a look over at Natasha, Steve could see that he wasn’t the only one who found the situation conflicting for a multitude of reasons. The main one being, as always, that Nick Fury was definitely a special kind of asshole. Top of the class.

Steve focused on the vials in his pocket, rubbing a finger over them help contain the rage within him.

“Besides.” Steve heard Fury explaining. “I wasn’t sure who to trust.”

Natasha swatted away the doctor working on her shoulder to stand. “You couldn’t trust _us_?”

Steve knew by _us_ she meant _me_ but nobody corrected her. Even Namorita winced from beside Steve. Steve heard Natasha stomp out of the room and saw the doctor trailing behind her shouting about needing to finish stitching up her wound. Steve didn’t see her so much as slow down as she rounded another corner. Fury sighed loud enough for them to hear. He and Namorita exchanged a glance, rolled their eyes, and turned to face him anyway.

“It was necessary.” He told them all. Steve shrugged.

“You always seem to think so.” He told him sharply. Fury regarded him coolly.

“I would like a report on how I was shot by your old combat buddy.” Fury’s twist of the word buddy was bitter and mildly accusatory. Several people in the room shifted uncomfortably.

“Funny, I was about to ask you what you knew about that.” Steve crossed his arms.

“You think I hired him?” He seemed offended but Steve didn’t buy it.

“I think you knew he was alive.” Steve crossed his arms.

“I wouldn’t-”

“You hired the pirates.” Steve interrupted angrily. Fury dropped his outrage reluctantly.

“Well, there’s no strategic value in me getting shot or killed.” Fury told him, biting off the words angrily. “So no. I did not get myself declared dead on purpose. Barnes being an asset of Hydra’s is new information. We were unaware. _I_ was unaware.”

“Rumlow knew.” Steve said simply. His throat hurt from how much he wanted to scream.

“How?”

“I’m assuming Pierce told him.” Steve shrugged. “Since he’s behind all of this.”

Fury shook his head. “Not Pierce. He’s a friend. He’d never.”

"Pierce is Hydra." Steve declared.

Fury's string of curses illustrated what he thought of that opinion.

“He had me declared an enemy of S.H.I.E.L.D. and implicated me in your death.” Steve told him. When Fury said nothing about it, Steve continued. “Even if this wasn’t his doing he’s more involved than you think he is.”

“He was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize.” Fury reminded him. His surprise was genuine. 

“He has an entire unit of Strike Team carrying out kill orders.” Steve scoffed. “Sound very peaceful?”

Fury seemed agitated. He tried to sit up in bed but needed Maria Hill’s help, which he clearly resented. He forced his way out of bed and over to a small table in the next area over. He pulled out a small files and computer without explaining what he was going.

“Tell me everything you know.” He told Hill. Steve turned to Sam and nodded. They needed Nat.

“Think she’s okay?” Sam asked him. Steve shrugged.

“Depends on how tenacious that doctor was.” Steve admitted.

They found her just as the doctor was finished up his stitched. She had gritted her teeth and wasn’t looking down at the wound in her shoulder. Steve examined it for his and winced. The caliber must have been large. It left a rather large wound.

“I need to have a chat with your friend about the way he keeps shooting me.” She grumbled.

“Bye-bye strapless tops.” Steve teased her. She glowered at him.

He helped her into Fury’s makeshift office but did notice that she was stronger. Not ready to fight but able to at least walk under her own power. She disliked the hand Steve offered her but took it anyway until she reached her seat at the little table. Fury was staring down at a picture of a younger Pierce, frowning.

“This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize. He said peace wasn’t an achievement; it was a responsibility.” Fury shook his head and dropped the picture. “See, it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues.”

Natasha pursed her lips but held her tongue. Instead she said. “We have to stop the launch.”

“I don’t think the Council’s accepting my calls anymore.” Fury opened a case and turned it.

“What’s that?” Sam asked. Steve thought they looked like computer components but had no idea. Nothing technological made sense to him. Even Maria’s explanation when a little over his head, but he got the gist. Change the blades and save the lives. That was the mission. He could do that.

“We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is Hydra.” Fury told them. He was right. Nobody on board those carriers would be clueless to their purpose. “We have to get past them to insert these server blades. And maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what’s left-”

“We’re not salvaging anything.” Steve snapped quickly. “We’re not just taking down the carriers, Nick. We’re taking down S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. had nothing to do with this.” Fury protested. Steve disagreed vehemently. 

“You gave me this mission. This is how it ends. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s been compromised. You said so yourself.” Steve thought to the missions he’d helped Strike Team with. How many had truly been to serve Hydra? The fact that he couldn’t say made the queasy feeling come back to his stomach. “Hydra grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.”

“Why do you think we’re meeting in this cave?” He argued. “I noticed.”

“How many paid the price before you did?” Steve challenged.

“Look.” Fury seemed to sense what Steve meant. “I didn’t know about Barnes.”

“Even if you had, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that, too?” Steve asked. Fury didn’t answer. “S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra. It all goes.”

Nick was about to say something but Maria stopped him. “He’s right.”

Fury looked to Natasha but she just stared back at him coolly. It was the closest he’d seen her come to telling Nick Fury no. Nick turned to look at Sam but Sam just shook his head and nodded towards Steve.

“Don’t look at me. I do what he does, just slower.”

“Well.” Fury sighed heavily. “Looks like you’re giving the orders now, Captain.”

Steve nodded a few times. “We’re going to start with you telling us what the hell you know.”

“Actually.” Namorita cleared her throat. “He should start by explaining why he hired me.”

Fury snorted. “Hired is a stretch.”

“It’s a lot kinder than saying blackmailed.” She snapped angrily. “I was trying to be kind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO CLOSE TO DONE. I really appreciate those of you who have stuck with me this far. Last few chapters will be posted this weekend!


	21. Under Pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr)

Steve was sat at one extreme of the round table and Fury was at the other. That distance was the only think keeping Steve from literally wrapping his hands around Fury’s neck and squeezing. He closed his eyes and counted the ten, letting the rage bubble and fury for a moment before tamping it back down. When he opened his eyes and saw Fury, his rage was still there. But he was slightly less murderous.

“Ok, blackmail.” Steve said, forcing his voice to be calm. “I guess we’re adding that to the list.”

Fury snorted. “I guess we are. Tell me, where does ordering illicit drugs off the internet go on that list?”

Steve could tell Fury expected that be a bombshell. But literally everyone just stared at him.

“A bit late to that party.” Steve told him. He crossed his arms.

“A bit.” Sam agreed with a shrug.

“I’m not human either, in case someone missed that part.” Steve continued, shrugging.

“At least you’ve stopped saying demon.” Namorita teased him. She shook her head. She muttered something about him not even being that persuasive and Steve ignored her. Natasha shot Steve a look telling him to cool it. Steve’s knee bounced up and down as the excess energy had to get out somehow.

“So, blackmail. Tell us why.” Natasha interjected. Fury started hemming and hawing.

“Start with the Lemurian Star.” Steve told him. “The algorithm.”

Fury nodded solemnly. “It’s going to destroy us.”

“He wanted to take down the satellite.” Natasha nodded, looking at Fury to confirm it. She didn’t seem to notice that nobody else looked hopeful. “That’s why you hired the pirates.”

Steve frowned. “The satellite is in the air. The crew stayed behind. They launched the payload.”

“I needed to know what was being launched.” Fury demanded.

“You knew something was dirty. Why not scrap it altogether?” Namorita challenged. Her voice was stiff.

“Because if the Council got wind of it- if they’d had any reason to doubt me- I’d have been out. And then I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.” Fury demanded, he huffed and leaned back in his seat. “I didn’t know who I could trust. I didn’t know what I was up against. I didn’t want to ruin what could be a good thing because of a hunch that I had.”

Steve bought none of it.

A single look at Natasha told him she wasn’t buying it either. Steve frowned.

“He didn’t want to stop Project Insight.” Steve realized, horrified. It had never been about the helicarriers being wrong. “He doesn’t disagree with the method. Just the target.”

Fury said nothing.

“I’m right. Aren’t I?” Steve demanded.

“They are a measure of protection.” Fury demanded, slamming a hand on the table. The others let out a round of disgusted scoffs. Namorita’s wings fluttered angrily. Her fury probably matched Steve’s, if not exceeded it. Unlike Steve, she knew her name was probably on Insight’s list.

“If they get in the air then they’re going to kill _millions_.” Natasha snapped.

“If they’re in my hands, they won’t.” Fury demanded. “Not unless they have to.”

Namorita stood so violently that he chair fell over. “And if it _isn't_ in your hands? The next director? What if the next one doesn’t like demons as much as you? Who’s to stop them from killing people like me?”

Silence fell over the room. Steve cleared his throat. “The helicarriers end with S.H.I.E.L.D. today.”

“Agreed.” Natasha nodded.

“Yes.” Hill nodded. Sam said nothing but when Steve looked at him, he nodded too.

“Go back to the hunch.” Steve instructed Fury. “Tell me how you realized that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been compromised in the first place.”

Fury snorted. He pointed to Namorita. “Because of her.”

“How?” Steve asked.

“She not tell you?” Fury asked. He leaned forward. “Little Miss Self-Righteous is a Hydra Agent.”

Namorita crossed her arms. “I feel like the word ‘former’ belongs in their somewhere.”

“It was recent enough.” Fury decided.

“It’s how you unraveled the whole thing.” Namorita pointed out. “So maybe it’s less of a blame game and more of you owing me a thank you.”

Fury snorted and did no such thing. Steve frowned.

“I’m confused. Did you turn yourself in? Send a report? Why all the secrecy if you had a spy?” He asked.

“Well.” Fury actually looked nervous. It was the first time since Steve had met him that he could remember Fury looking honestly afraid of what was going to happen next. “That is a little more complicated. I didn’t know what I had. Not until Selvig asked about the Tesseract.”

Steve sighed. “You’re speaking in riddles. Stop.”

“Well.” Fury repeated. “I guess the truth is that we don’t know how we knew.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“There was an event. An event nobody within S.H.I.E.L.D. could explain. Only a handful of agents were read in on the full thing and of those, only myself and Alexander Pierce were privy to the results of the research in their entirety.” Fury paused, took a breath. “There were three main anomalies in the event. And only two of which have been explained by S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists.”

Natasha and Maria exchanged a look, confused. Steve guessed they hadn’t been read in.

“Get to the point, Nick.” Steve told him.

“What were the three things?” Sam asked.

“Well, the first was a series of deep sea explosions. The equivalent of an underwater detonation of a nuclear device. Found to be World War II era planes falling apart. About fifteen, all simultaneously. The second was a weather event, tracked by Doctor Foster, a somehow naturally occurring Einstein-Rosen Bridge.” Fury swallowed. “We later match the signal to that of the Tesseract.”

“What was the third thing?” Steve asked. But in his gut, he felt like he already knew. He had flashes of it.

“A plane in the artic. Not heavily trafficked territory, but scanned by enough satellites to be surprising.” Nick swallowed, his eyes were staring at Steve. “One day it wasn’t there, and the next it was. Barely even covered by the ice. Perfectly visible even by civilian satellites.”

Steve’s nervous stomach was right. “Mine. How?”

“That has been the million dollar question everyone is trying to answer, Cap.” Fury gestured towards where Namorita was sitting. “And she’s the one that figured it out.”

"I'm not following." Steve shrugged.

"What do you remember from the crash?" Fury asked. From the years of backward therapy sessions turned interrogations, Steve had a trained visceral response to it. He scowled deeply.

"Crashing." He deadpanned.

"This isn't important right now." Namorita huffed. Steve could commiserate with her frustration.

"It hasn't been important for the last three years." Steve insisted. 

Nobody agreed with him right away. Nick and Maria exchanged a glance and Steve could tell there was more to the story than even what they were willing to tell him. He swallowed, looking towards Namorita to explain. Her already knowing whatever caused Steve to 'reappear' or whatever was more important than Steve remembering it.

He hated that he couldn't remember it. Like there was a piece of something that should be there but wasn't. He searched his mind but didn't come up with new answers. Just more of the same.

"You went to Tartarus." Namorita said simply. "The demon realm."

Steve scoffed. "Tartarus isn't real."

"I've been there." She shot back.

"Bullshit." Steve rolled his eyes. Namorita extended her arm and revealed a mess of burnt flesh.

"Hydra has a way. Hydra knows that there is a way between realms. Schmidt showed it to them in 1945. They've used it." She shook her head. "They used to keep us there. Summon us when we were needed and then send us back." 

Steve swallowed. Bucky. "Us?"

"Demons they'd forced in to service." She pointed to the flesh. "That used to be a bonding sigil."

Steve shook his head. "How do you know-"

"It was dark. So dark that it was like light just didn't exist. And so cold that it felt like blood would freeze. Except demon blood doesn't freeze. It runs hot." She shook her head sadly. "I can't tell you how I knew except that no place on earth feels like that."

Steve felt something like bile rise in the back of his throat. 

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"Because you're human. And they brought you back." Namorita shook her head. "Nobody could figure out why you didn't die like the others. Hydra has tried thousands of times for hundreds of years. Nobody ever came back. No humans ever survived."

"And they wanted to know why?" Steve asked. She nodded.

"They didn't know that you-" Fury gestured at him vaguely. "-aren't human."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "You knew?"

"She knew." He pointed to Namorita.

“And I didn’t tell Hydra. So, _hero_.” She grinned proudly, pointing at herself.

"So that means you knew the whole time?" He stared at Fury, then turned to Namorita. "And you knew that he knew I didn't know that he knew."

She looked confused. "...Yes?"

Steve rubbed his head because it had started to ache. Hydra was after him because he was survived coming back from Tartarus. S.H.I.E.L.D. was interested in this because...

"Why was S.H.I.E.L.D. involved in all this at all?" He asked, realizing he didn't know.

"Because there was an idea. A concept. A team-"

"He wanted to use demons as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents again." Namorita told him. She looked over at Steve and rolled her eyes. But Steve seethed. Steve swallowed. He had needed to be human. That's what he had been told. Steve had fought for it, given up so much to maintain his humanity. It wasn't that he resented that others might not have to work so hard, but a part of him still raged at the fact that he had ever needed to. "Demon / Human teams like yours with my grandfather. They wanted a team that could use Tartarus for it's...strategic advantages."

"Grandfather?" He asked her. He didn't connect the dots until she smirked.

"Namor." Of course. Steve felt like an idiot. In his defense, they looked nothing alike. But the name.

“You couldn’t show them how to go between?” He asked her. She shook he her head.

"They guarded the sigil that brought us back. Only a few got it." Namorita explained, ruffling her wings. He nodded and tuned back in to where Fury was trying to convince him, one more time, that the insanely dangerous plan which required pain and sacrifice of people who _weren't_ Fury was the right one.

"Time works differently there. It can release forces into any environment. It-"

"Is a miserable fucking desolate wasteland." Namorita snapped. Steve nodded.

"But demons. The public." Steve winced. He rubbed the back of his neck where the tension was building. "If demons served-"

“Humanity will have to adjust.” Fury shrugged. “We’ll call it progress." 

No, Steve realized. They wouldn’t. He felt ill. “Or use demons that look human.”

“Like you?” Namorita’s tone was deadly. Steve shook his head. Well, they would have. Steve wasn’t saying they were above it. But they had a better option.

“Like Bucky.” He said quietly. 

“What?” Natasha was staring at him.

"Hydra already has them." Steve told them. It didn't look like news to them. "Bucky. Bucky is real, right?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking?"

"If we say that all of the times I saw him before were also real and not some psychotic break like I thought." He ignored the loud 'WHAT' that Natasha shouted at him and kept going. "If those weren't delusions. If I wasn't crazy. He's a demon. He told me so. They did something to him. He’s going back and forth from Tartarus too. That’s how he’s a ghost. He goes to Tartarus."

There was silence around the table again. Natasha looked horrified, but her eyes were on Steve. What he'd said disturbed her because of what he'd admitted about himself. But Fury and Maria looked horrified as well, but they looked at each other. This was a theory they'd already had, come true. An actual nightmare.

And Namorita didn't even look surprised.

"Did you know?"

"We who are government experiments, tend not to be surprised by them." She told him. Then she paused and looked him up and down. "Or so I thought."

Steve just rolled his eyes at her. "We've already established that I am full of disappointments."

"If we can find out how Hydra moves between." Fury started to explain. "We can use that."

Steve shook his head. "No."

They would never, as long as Steve had the power to stand and fight them on it. They'd see him dead before they sent anyone there. The vehemence of his emotional response even surprised Steve. He sat, stewing angrily in his own mind, letting the others try and debate it's various merits and problems. Steve already knew they weren't going to do it, so he ignored them.

"This feels like a problem to deal with after Project Insight is stopped." Steve told them, rubbing his chin.

"You have an idea?" Fury asked him.

"Go to the Triskelion. Use those." He pointed to Fury's tracking chips. "Then ground them."

Maria shook her head. "If they get in the air then we've already lost."

"Alright. Stop them _before_ they get off the ground." Steve nodded. He stood. "We leave in an hour. I'll be back. I have something I need to do first."

Fury rolled his eyes. “For anyone interested, I do happen to have a plan in place. 

Steve continued on his way out of the room without so much as slowing down.

Sam, who'd be silently watching everything go down, tried to call after him to wait, but Steve kept walking. He couldn't breathe in that room. He couldn't think. Steve instead went to the small room where he could get cleaned up. He needed to change. He needed to keep moving, too, but he could feel himself flagging.

* * *

“Before you go.” Namorita said quietly from the doorway. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Steve frowned, crossing his arms. He didn’t like the tone of her voice. “About what.”

The knife she held up was not reassuring. And her smirk bordered on predatory. “This.”

“Namorita.” Steve took a step back and held up a hand. She wanted to mark him with a sigil. Steve wasn’t a fan of the idea. But his shirt was already off and the tip of the knife was against his skin before he could muster the willpower to push her away. He felt drained.

“This will sting a bit.” She told him. The knife was already carving in to skin, so the warning was late.

“I noticed.” He grumbled.

“I don’t want to alarm you.” Namorita told him as she worked. “But we’re going in to a battle that we are most likely going to lose. Forgive me if I want to be just a little more protected. If I want us all to make it out of there alive.”

An image of Bucky flashed in to his head. From inside the numbness, a stab of pain pierced his gut. He flinched. Namorita didn’t even hesitate or ask if he was okay. She just kept on carving at the soft skin just below his collar bone.

“I didn’t know you knew him.” She said quietly after a few silent moments had past. “The man in the mask. If I’d known, I’d have said something.”

Steve nodded. He didn’t expect her to know, and wouldn’t have expected her to tell him. “Thanks.”

“Do you believe he was real the whole time?” She asked.

“I was taking the AVX. It’s possible it wasn’t. Maybe it was.” He shrugged. Namorita smiled at him.

“Maybe you’ll be able to ask him someday.” She said softly. 

Another simple thing to say that hit Steve harder than he anticipated. He started to shake slightly. Bucky, the real Bucky, had been in his room. Had been talking to him. Had listened to Steve tell him that he didn’t exist.

Steve couldn’t think about it. He had to focus.

“Are we done?” He asked her. He was starting to feel trapped.

“Getting antsy?” She asked, But her look was concerned.

“I can feel the knife in my bone.” He claimed. Namorita just winced.

“Sorry. It’s gotta be deep. We heal too fast.” She shook her head. They lapsed back in to silence.

He wanted to ask her about Namor. But given that she currently had a knife mere inches from his face and the story was probably one that would leave her feeling less than charitable, Steve decided it could wait. He could see it in her face now. The angle of her nose. Her chin. He could see Namor in her face if he looked for it. Steve thought back to the man he knew in the war.

“Yeah,” she said in to the silence, “Some people you never stop missing.”

When she finished and stepped back to study her work, Steve finally looked down at it. It looked like nothing to him. She took his hand and placed it over the sigil and it started to burn. Steve shouted and tried to pull away but she wouldn’t let him.

“See?” She told him. “It’s easy.”

Not the word he would have chosen. He noticed she was starting to leave. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, I have a plan. It involved not dying.” She tossed him a wink and kept going. “Try not to either, Cap.”

Steve had a plan too. But he had some errands to run first.

* * *

His apartment was trashed. Steve wasn’t even sure why he was back there. But after he’d put on his uniform, after he’d stolen it from the Smithsonian, his feet had carried him there. But when he’d found the building locked up and closed, Steve realized the whole building- not just Kate- had been a lie. He’d climbed in through the window. Steve had been thinking about what Sam had told him before he left.

_I don’t think he’s the kind you save_.

Steve settled in to his bedroom. Where Bucky would sit when he had showed up in the middle of the night. Steve hadn’t thought he was real.

Bucky had been alive. Alive within arm’s reach of Steve. And Steve hadn’t touched him. Hadn’t put a single hand on him. Hadn’t held him. Steve squeezed his eyes shut and buried his head into his hands. He hadn’t thought he was real.

_He might not give you a choice._

There was a small keening sound and Steve realized that he was sobbing. He heard himself crying. There was nothing in this small room now but him. Not Bucky. Not Captain America. Just Steve. Steve the demon who wasn’t going to be strong enough to win.

_He doesn’t know you._

“He will.” Steve repeated to himself. Steve would make him remember. He’d remembered Steve before.

He stood. He had to meet the others. Natasha had her own job, but Namorita and the others were waiting for him to get back. Steve had taken all of the time that he could.

There was nothing left for him in the apartment. No life. No things. Nothing tying him to it. Steve didn’t feel anything as he climbed back out of the window. Without Bucky in it, without him in it, it was just a few mostly empty rooms that held nothing by lies. Deceptions. It had been nothing but lies. Steve’s. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s too. Maybe Hydra’s.

Steve was tired of lies. He was tired of defining his life by the things we wasn’t. Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he was just in pain.

He felt the vials of serum in his pocket, considered taking them, but left them there. He might not be strong enough or good enough, but he was done being someone he wasn’t just for the sake of winning. Maybe winning wasn’t always worth it. Maybe winning cost more than it was worth.

* * *

“Alpha is in position. Bravo team move in.” Fury called over the radio.

Maria hit something and then nodded. S.H.I.E.L.D. radios and communications had been impacted. They waited at the door to the communication room and after a minute, the door was yanked open by an agent in a blue jump suit. He immediately put his hand up at the sight of Maria and Sam’s raised weapons.

“Excuse us.” Steve smirked at him. The agent stepped backward quickly. Another appeared next to him.

“Good man.” Maria nodded. The two men looked at each other.

“What do you need?” The first one asked them, lowering his hands. “We’ll help.”

Steve had the second man gather all of their team and go into the next room over, promising not to call attention to their presence. The first one showed them how to use the PA microphone. Steve had been thinking about what he would say but once he started going, the words just came out. When he was gone he released the button like the agent had showed him and stepped back.

“Did you write that down first, or was it off the top of your head?” Sam asked. 

“I think it’s part of the serum.” Maria told him. “Like how certain birds attract mates by song.”

Sam considered it. “Someone as Namorita. Is it a demon thing? Is it like a type of persuasion?”

“Screw you, bird boy.” Namorita called over. Steve snorted.

“No, really. Does the ‘ooh-rah’ patriotic speech book come as part of the uniform?” Sam asked teasingly. “Or is it sold separately? Can I buy it on Amazon? Etsy? Is it a custom order?”

“Do I have to remind my own agents to prioritize?” Fury snapped at them. 

“Is this not a priority?” Sam asked, full of faux outrage. Steve snorted.

“Let's move. If we’re luc-”

There was a loud rumble from outside. Steve and Maria both went directly to window and watched as the river opened up and revealed three large launch bay. She groaned and Steve hit the window in frustration.

“You just had to say it.” Sam groaned.

“They’re launching.” Steve knew it was stating the obvious. He cursed twice.

“Captain.” Maria laughed in surprise. But they were all on the move. Steve stopped and pointed to the communication agent.

“Don’t let anyone else in here.” He ordered. He turned to Maria.

"Go. I got this.” She swallowed. “Captain. Get those birds out of the air.”

* * *

Steve froze. Bucky had stopped on the catwalk across from him and snarled. It was jarring for Steve to see him and even though he'd mentally prepared himself for it, he had to stop and take a moment. His chest ached. But Steve hadn't taken the serum. It was still in his pocket. Bucky's face was a hard line that didn't betray any emotion or recognition. He was staring at Steve as if he had no idea who he was.

_This is real_. His mind insists. _This is happening._ _This is real. This is real._

Or, at least, he hadn't had this particular delusion before. His mind didn't feel like it was together but spiraled in to a million separate insignificant pieces. He felt like he was watching himself standing there. Trying to talk Bucky down. Trying to see some spark of recognition in his eyes. But there was nothing. He could recognize the feeling of desperation seeping in to his bones, but they didn't feel like they were his bones. He felt disconnected.

“Please don’t make me do this.” He begged. Bucky didn’t react. Steve had no choice.

The whole time they were fighting, Steve tried to place his punches. Block but don’t injure. Do what has to be done to complete the mission but don’t kill him. Don't kill him. Don't hurt him. Bucky was strong enough and fast enough that he made it hard not to fight back with everything Steve had. 

He almost got the chip into the control server. Almost. He was too slow and too weak and so when Bucky yanked him back, Steve fell. He had to block several blows with his shield. And then they were tumbling down over the railing and Steve had lost his grip on it. It slid down the smooth metal panel behind back and then down the bottom of the glass bowl that they were in. Steve leapt for the chip.

“Bucky, people are going to die.” Steve shouted after he landed.

Bucky growled. Moved to strike again.

“I can’t let you do this.” Steve was begging. Bucky landed a blow hard enough to send him flying.

* * *

_Schmidt held the Tesseract in his hand. The casement it had been in sparked wildly, sending blue tendrils outward in to the plane haphazardly. Steve had to dodge one as it sparked into the side of the wall. Even as Schmidt cackled and raged about power, Steve watched the tesseract. Outside, the sky went dark. Was that thunder? It sounded almost like rain against the windshield._

_"Schmidt." Steve roared. "Stop this."_

_Schmidt cackled. "You are too blind to see. We are Gods amongst men. The entire universe waits."_

_"We?" Steve hated to think of the serum that ran through both of their veins._

_"There is so much they didn't tell you, Captain." Schmidt mocked. Even as is skin began to dissolve. "We are limited by our huma-"_

_Then he was gone. Steve was left with a malfunctioning plane. He sat at the controls nervously and looked out the window. Steve wasn't sure what to make of the scene in front of him. He was no pilot. But he was pretty sure the ground wasn't meant to disappear._

* * *

Instead of engaging him, Steve turned and sprinted towards where the chip had fallen. He hadn’t expected his shield. Bucky grabbed it and used it against him, nailing him in the back as he ran. Steve went crashing to the ground. He had to quick spin and use the shield to block shots Bucky fired at him.

They were running out of time. Steve wasn't moving fast enough. He needed to get the chip in place. It was the last one. Bucky came at him with a knife and Steve had to knock it away. Bucky grabbed the chip and Steve had a sudden mental image of him crushing it. It wasn’t easy to actually hurt Bucky. He screamed as Steve dislocated his shoulder. Steve almost stopped, but he knew he couldn’t. The least damage he could do was knock him out. Feeling Bucky go limp in his arms cause Steve to freeze for just a second. It took everything he had to not cling to him. But he moved Bucky out of the way, grabbed the chip, and ran.

“Okay, Cap, get out of there.” Maria called over the radio. Steve was slumped on the ground.

* * *

_“I got to put her in the water.” Steve was shouting into the radio. It was so loud. Cold._

_“Please, don’t do this. We have time. We can work it out.” She was desperate. Hurting already. Steve was pushing the plane downward. He didn’t have another choice._

_“Right now, I’m in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer, a lot of people are going to die.” Steve told her. He watched the icon move along the map. She didn’t respond.  He nodded to himself. “Peggy, this is my choice.”_

_“I’m going to need a rain check on that dance.” He told her. In his mind her saw Bucky. The dance they’d planned in Paris. But it was Peggy’s voice who answered him, weak and little bit hoarse from holding back tears._

_“Alright.” She let out a small sob. “A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club.”_

_“You got it.” Steve promised._

_“Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late.”_

* * *

“I don't think I can. Job's not done.” He grabbed the tracking card but the distance to the control unit was far. It was too far. He wasn't good enough. He looked at Bucky. He couldn't leave him. “Maria…I’m not getting out.”

Her reply was immediate and frantic. “Captain.” 

“I’m hurt. And It’s…it’s Bucky.” Steve admitted.

* * *

_He didn't tell her about the world disappearing. But the land was right in front of him. A coastline. But then it wasn't. Black emptiness caved between Steve and the coast. He didn't know what it was but it filled him with a sense of dread._

_"We'll have the band play something slow." He promised her._

_If he was careful, he could get the plane down outside of the blackness._

_Steve wasn't going to be able to keep her in the air for much longer. The instruments were going crazy. A strike of blue lightening hit him and sent him flying forward. The whole plane shuddered, skipping between what Steve expected to see and emptiness erratically._

_"I'd hate to step on your t-"_

* * *

“Fire now.” Steve told Maria. He was hurt. Bad. He wasn’t leaving Bucky. He couldn’t leave him.

“But, Steve...” He heard the emotion and her hesitation but could let it slow him down. He swallowed and tried to force himself up. He could make the climb. He could be strong enough.

* * *

_Steve didn't see the ground until he hit it. Then he was flying through the air. It was a sensation unlike anything he’d ever felt before. The force of it seemed to resonate down into his core and he could feel his serum working to heal his body; doing its best to keep his bones from shattering. His femur doesn’t listen. Steve felt it snap when it hit the dashboard controls. The straps he’d so anxiously forced himself into snap like old rubber bands and send him careening into the tangle of crumpled glass and metal that form the front of the plane now. It’s skidding across the ice. Steve fell to the ground, feeling glass embedded through his uniform into the deep muscle of his back and shoulders._

_The blue lights were still flashing, but weaker. He didn't have to dodge them before they only went a few feet in to the cabin. Steve watched as it danced. There was something oddly fascinating about it and he couldn't look away. A small voice in the back of his head that was just whispering 'home'._

_There was something wrong with his lungs. He didn’t feel like he could breathe. The cold and snow was piling on top of him and weighed so much he couldn’t lift his chest to take a breath. He only just barely had the presence of mind to push his face above the snow where he could reach the air. Eventually he managed to get himself mostly upright, slouching heavily against the metal wall._

* * *

“Do it.” He commanded loudly. They were running out of time. There was no other way.

Steve ignored the fire in his back and started to climb.

* * *

_He had to blink a few times to clear his vision of snow and -he assumed- blood before he could see through the darkness. Steve hadn’t realized how cavernous the cockpit on the Valkyrie was. He could only just barely make out the far back wall of the space. Due to the way the plane landed the back was far above his head with the floor resting at a steep angle._

_Just looking at it made his head spin._

_“You need to stay awake, Steve.” Peggy’s voice rang through the cockpit. Was the radio still operational? He hadn’t heard any static but his ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. He reached up and fished blindly for the radio controller._

_“Peggy.” He managed her name, but it came out strangled and forced. Steve sputtered and coughed into his arm. It came away bloody. “I think I really hurt myself this time, Peg.”_

_“Stay awake, Captain.” She repeated. Steve nodded._

_“I will.” He promised her. More static._

_"Steve?" The voice was weak. But he'd recognized it anywhere. "Steve is that you?"_

_He smiled even through the haze of pain. Grinned like a fool. "Bucky."_

_"I'm here. Steve. I'm here. Just hold on."_

* * *

Bucky was on the glass. Steve needed to get to him. The impact from the first volley of fire sent him flying into the railing. It hit right above one of his wounds. He groaned but kept moving, albeit slowly. The explosions continued to rock the ship and Steve struggled to move. He could see Bucky pinned beneath a huge piece of steel that had been dislodged during the first strike.

He heard one of the other carriers impacting the Potomac. There weren’t stairs. Any easy way down was no rubble thanks to the helicarriers attacking each other. If they hit the water with Bucky still pinned, he was going to die. Steve wouldn’t let that happen twice.

He threw himself off of the railing.

Steve landed with a thud, weapons still firing all around him. His body was healing but not fast enough. He could only get himself to stand slowly. The ground was moving so much from the impacts that he was stumbling as he walked, holding his side weakly. Steve could tell Bucky was watching him but didn’t say anything.

“I’ve got you, Bucky.” Steve called over to him. Bucky just let out a yell and tried to free himself.

They were circling the ground, out of control. They had minutes to impact, if that long. Steve ignored the tearing sensation in his side as he lifted the beam. He could feel the tendons in his arms simultaneously tearing and repairing themselves. He lifted the beam just enough for Bucky to slide out, which he did quickly.

Bucky got to his feet and regarded Steve with a snarl. He was holding his flesh and bone arm, the one that Steve had dislocated, to his side limply. Steve held up his hands, guarding himself as best he could.

“You know me.” He told Bucky. He was met with a growl.

“No, I don’t.” Bucky launched with his metal arm, swinging wildly. Steve landed on the ground.

He stood, fighting all of the pain in his body. “Bucky. You’ve known me your whole life.”

Bucky swung again. Steve went flying again. He stood back up, because it was Bucky. Steve was panting, hurt as much as he had been since the serum, but he faced Bucky again and swallowed. “Your name is James Buchanan Barnes.”

There was no flash of recognition. Just another scream and a swing. This time with, “Shut up.”

* * *

_He needed to make it towards the back of the plane. Maybe an escape hatch. He could make his way out through one of the bomb hatches. Signal for help with the flare. Steve tried to take a step out but his leg buckled from the pressure after a single one. He could literally feel his broken bone shift as he collapsed to the ground._

_“I can do this.” Steve growled to himself. He latched on to the metal railing of the control panel._

_It was easily a hundred feet just to the back of the cockpit. Steve pulled himself back up to standing._

_“I need to do this.”_

_Once he was standing he tried to move again. He noticed his hands were shaking from the effort. He couldn’t put any weight on the bad leg now. His lungs burned with the effort of breathing. It took several minutes for him to get even just a few feet forward. It was so cold he could see ice forming on the higher edge of plane. His breath was forming in white clouds in front of his mouth. Steve wasn’t going to be able to move fast enough to get rescued before the effects of hypothermia took its toll even on him._

_Steve was going to die on this plane. He wasn’t going to survive._

_From the corner the vision of Bucky reached out to him. He didn’t have the strength to get to him._

_“I’m sorry.” Steve squeezed his eyes shut, leaning back to take the weight off of his leg. He sagged weakly, starting to fall. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t. I wasn’t strong enough.”_

_Bucky just smiled at him._

* * *

This time as Steve stood, he yanked off his mask. He hoped that there would be something there but Bucky just glared at him. Steve could see he was conflicted. There was some awareness behind his eyes, but it wasn’t recognition. He had no idea who Steve was. Suddenly, Steve was staring at his nightmare. Snarling at him about his life being lost and it being Steve’s fault. He blinked to make it go away. But when it did it was just replaced with Bucky, wounded and angry. Steve sighed.

“I’m not gonna fight you.” Steve told him. “I’m your friend.”

Bucky leapt at Steve, tackling him onto a steal brace in the glass dome. His spine snapped and Steve froze, unable to move at all. Bucky landed on top of him and moved to swing, already snarling. “You’re my mission.”

He swung over and over, smashing in Steve’s face. He felt the bones break. “You’re my mission.”

Bucky was repeating himself, hesitating before his next swing. Steve gasped, struggling to breathe. He couldn’t move at all. Bucky looked pained. He was programmed, Steve realized. He couldn’t stop himself. He swallowed.

“Then finish it. Because I’m with you till the end of the line.”

* * *

_Steve settled onto the bench next to where Bucky was standing. He wanted to reach out to touch him but he knew, even has his brain tried to deceive him, that Bucky wasn’t there. And he didn’t want to spend his last few minutes alone. He took a strangled breath and felt himself slouch against the bench. Bucky smiled down at him. Steve felt his eyes drift closed. He tried to force them open and smile at Peggy one last time._

_“I’m so sorry” He whispered again. Bucky shook his head._

_"We're both going to be okay." Bucky assured him. "Just let go."_

_Her hand was right next to his. Steve reached out for his hand with the last of his strength. Right as his hand was going to touch his, it disappeared. Steve let his hand drop to the bench and let his eyes slide closed. Darkness crept around the corners of his vision, but he let it._

_He’d stopped Hydra._

_It was all finally over._

_They’d won._

_"Steve?" It was Bucky's voice, though it sounded scared, weaker. "Steve, something's wrong."_

_Steve couldn’t make himself speak._

_“I can fix it.” Bucky was talking to himself more than Steve, but Steve felt the warmth of Bucky’s hand wrapping around his. He tried to squeeze back but couldn’t. If he was conscious he’d be laughing about Bucky actually trying to hold his hand. Softy. “I can fix this.”_

* * *

Steve saw the flash of recognition cross Bucky’s face. Then horror. Another explosion reverberated through the dome and there was a crack. The glass underneath Steve gave way and he started tumbling through the water below.

He knew before he hit the water that he wasn’t going to be able to swim. The impact was like hitting concrete and it knocked the breath out of his lungs. He was trapped. The water swirled around and debris crashed all around him. Steve let himself sink to the bottom. Bucky’s mission would be completed. He’d be done. Steve was so tired.

At first, Steve didn't know what grabbed him. But then it curled, grabbing the fabric of his uniform and pulling. Dragging him towards the shore just further down the river from the Triskelion. Steve was too weak to help. His legs couldn’t move and his arms were tingling as the tendons repaired themselves. He barely managed the energy to breathe as the air finally hit his face. 

His eyes were barely cracked but he couldn’t open them wider. One was swelling shut. Steve swallowed and took a few gasping breaths. He knew his was Bucky beside him. But he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Bucky was leaving, walking through the brush. Steve laid on the sand, struggling to breathe and wanting to scream after him. But nothing came out.

“You were there.” He finally called after him. Bucky froze. He turned slowly and stared at Steve.

“I don’t know you.” He was lying. Steve could see the uncertain set in his jaw.

“What…what did you do?” Steve asked. “How did you bring me back?”

But even as he waited for an answer, the world started fading. Bucky just watched him, staring at Steve as he struggled to stay conscious. He remembered. Steve did too. The plane. Namorita had been right. But they hadn’t known that Bucky was there. Bucky had saved him. Steve smiled to himself. Bucky had saved him. Bucky.

“You’re always saving me, Buck.” He whispered.

Bucky disappeared into the brush as the noise of patrols got closer. Steve watched until he was gone.

* * *

_"I...I don't think you're where you think we are." He said quietly. Steve was too cold. His joints didn't want to work. It was like the gravity on them was too strong. "Steve. Steve, wake up."_

_But he couldn't. It was too dark. Too cold. His throat ached from the effort of trying to form words._

_Bucky came back over to him, appearing above Steve's head._

_"They can bring you back." He whispered. "If I tell them that you're here. They can bring you back."_

_He didn't have the energy to respond. Bucky was muttering as he used a snapped piece of metal to scrape in to the floor of the ship. Steve couldn't see what it was but knew the sound of metal scraping on metal and the heat of the sigil as it activated._

_"Give me your hand." Bucky yanked Steve's hand. Steve gripped as if to hold it. "No. No, not like that."_

_Steve tried to hold his hand again, Bucky knocked it away. “No.”_

_“This hurts. And…and you’re not going to come out right on the other side at first. But it will be okay.”_

_“No.” Steve repeated, trying to shake it head. He knew it wasn’t working._

_“I’ve got to do this.” Bucky whispered to him. “Let me do this.”_

_He felt fire as his hand touched the carved sigil._

* * *

"I've got eyes on the Captain." Some shouted. "I see him."

There was a loud commotion, Steve felt hands on his chest. "I don't feel a pulse."

"Some get the medics over here."

Steve felt the tinges of reality fading away from him. He wondered if he'd see Bucky this time. Maybe he'd be there. The world went black and Steve let it.

* * *

_“This will be what brings you back.” Bucky whispered._

_He pressed his face close to Steve’s. Steve was fighting to get his hand off of the sigil because it was burning him. Bucky wasn’t letting him. It hurt deep into the bone. Steve stopped feeling his own fingertips after a minute because the pain was too intense for his brain to process._

_“I’m sorry. It hurts. I know it hurts. But it’s okay. When I remember I’ll come back. I’ll come back when I remember. I promise I will.”_

_“Bucky.” Steve whispered. “Bucky, you’re here.”_

_“Until the end of the line, pal.” His voice was soft, his face right in Steve’s ear._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE ARE SO CLOSE TO THE END! WOOOOHHH!


	22. 4-8-2014

<Embedded Image>   
Image © Getty Images 2014  
Image Description:   
An estimated 350 million dollars of damage has been reported as what appears to be three massive air carriers crashed immediately following their launch three days ago. Initial reports list the casualties in the hundreds. The assumption at this time is that this crash is connected to the hundreds of terrabytes of data leaked from S.H.I.E.L.D. on the same day.

**MULTIPLE CASUALTIES FALLING MASSIVE EQUIPMENT FAILURE AT TRISKELION**  
by James Olson  
April 8, 2014

Chaos has reigned along the Potomac for the past seventy-two hours following the massive destruction caused by the crashing of three air carriers (referred to in official S.H.I.E.L.D. press releases as ‘Helicarriers’) directly into the Triskelion building itself. The tower did not survive the collision. Rescue efforts are still underway, though most of the site has been cleared of any survivors. Damage Control has not yet commented on the duration of the time the restoration efforts will be expected to take. There are concerns from conservationists about the impact to the watershed.

The National Guard has been called in to help contain the situation and supplement the full roster of first responders that have been working nonstop since the accident occurred. The Chief of Police has openly thanked the units from Maryland and Virginia that have been working the scene since the first calls came in about the accident. Relief teams have been sent in every three hours due to the extreme heat and danger around the crash site.

S.H.I.E.L.D. documents leaked online reveal an insidious nature to these “Helicarriers” and a project codenamed Insight. According to documents, this project was aimed at the elimination of those deemed to be enemies of S.H.I.E.L.D., which the documents allege is also the infamous Nazi science group Hydra. Experts on the group maintained that it had been brought to an end by Captain America following a failed attack on the Allied powers. Captain America was reportedly at the Triskelion crash site.

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Shared (297k)   
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Comments (61.5k)

 **<** **AbadonDidNothingWrong** **>**    
this article is trash. nothing about the fact that Captain America (+2-3 unknown? idk) caused the crashes. I mean, yeah Project Insight got name checked but this is talking more about DAMAGE CONTROL, of all things, than the ACTUAL PLOT TO KILL MILLIONS OF PEOPLE BY OUR OWN GOVERNMENT.

 **< Guest46930>**  
It’s almost like that’s not the part of the story they took issue with. Guess if they’re demons, it doesn’t matter to them.

 **< JennieWithAnIE>**  
Listen- I’m not saying I approve of mass murder. But I am saying that I see the value of having the biggest, most powerful gun on the field. Nuclear weapons aren’t a deterrent anymore! We needed something bigger.

 **<** **BestUserNever** **>**    
<JennieWithAnIE> You are literally part of the problem

 **<** **SleepyPotato** >  
<AbadonDidNothingWrong> It’s not a clear cut issue. It’s complicated. There’s not necessarily a right or wrong when the safety of our country is at stake.

 **<** **AbadonDidNothingWrong** **>**    
<Username1> The people that they wanted to kill were already *in* the country. They were just demons. So you don’t even care.

 **< Guest305868>**  
These documents haven’t even been verified and ya’ll are down here acting like everything in them needs to be taken as fact. S.H.I.E.L.D. just allows their documents to get posted? They don’t have measures to prevent this? TBH I think the whole thing smells fishy.

<Related Articles Recommended for You>

  1. What We Know! Hydra Infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D. Proved By Leaked Documents. 
  2. The Authenticity of S.H.I.E.L.D. Documents In Question By NSA And DOD Heads. 
  3. Was Nick Fury Killed Because of Project Insight? Documents Prove He Pushed for Delay. 
  4. A Nation Mourns- Photos From Memorials Around the Nation 
  5. Demon S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents? Pictures Inside!



 

thornevelyn reblogged brokensidewalkturtle:   


> Alright who put the sign in the window across from the hospital Cap is in? It’s disrespectful!  
> 
>
>> But do you hate them for it? I mean…it’s hilarious.  
> 
>>
>>> I think we need to discuss your idea of the word ‘hilarious’.  
> 
>>>
>>>> His genetics aren’t a joke. Asking who his “daddy” is both is gross AND incredibly bigoted.

  
#nephilim #demon #captainamerica #steverogers #stevewatch2k14  
 **16 notes**  

what-the-fork-rogers Posted:   
**REBLOG TO LET STEVE ROGERS KNOW YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT HIM**  
#shield #hydra #captainamerica #steverogers  
**15,236,056 notes**  

thornevelyn reblogged ragingcoffeepot:   


> I went by the Trikskelion today and it just breaks my heart because it just proves how awful the government is and how much they’re willing do. How little we mean to them. How little our lives mean to them.  
> 
>
>> Our government is a joke. This is why we can’t trust them.

  
#resist #demon #fuckthesystem #government #americanpolitics #shield #triskelion  
 **256 notes**  

pile-of-avengers-trash posted:  
Is anyone else watching this Senate hearing because I certainly am and want to be the first to personally swear my loyalty to Natasha Romanoff.  
#queen #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #senatehearing2018 #shield #hydra #triskelion  
**208,756 notes**




 

Ninja Turtle Defense Squad @sha-la-la-la-lollipop  
I am here for nothing and no one except the way Natasha Romanov is serving up looks right now  
11:12 AM – 8 April 2014 

Here For the Mayhem Now @RoxProphecy   
@sha-la-la-la-lollipop idk if you saw yesterday but they had the demon in- Namorita? I am Too Gay™ for this.   
11:15 AM – 8 April 2014 

Here For the Mayhem Now @RoxProphecy   
I don’t think this is the important part of the senate hearing but where do we think she bought those boots?  
12:02 PM – 8 April 2014 

SORRY, that page doesn’t exist!  
You can search Twitter using the search box below or return to the homepage.  
_ImperiousRex_   |search|


	23. And The World Keeps Spinning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WE'VE MADE IT TO THE END! WOOHOO!  
> Huge thanks to [Neutralchaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neutralchaos/pseuds/Neutralchaos)!! (Go read their fics on here and their drawings at Chaosdraws on Tumblr). Their art inspired this and they deserve at least 50% of any credit/blame for the resulting fic.
> 
> Also massive thanks to [Ribbonsflying](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribbonsflying/pseuds/Ribbonsflying)!! Thank you for talking me off the ledge and listening to me ramble and stopping me from taking up residence in the garbage pile even if I belong there. You're the best.
> 
> You can read more fics by me over at [Chettadrabbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/koranges/pseuds/chettadrabbles) and say hi over on Tumblr at [WalkingStardust](https://walkingstardust.tumblr.com)
> 
>   
> art by Neutralchaos (Chaosdraws on tumblr)

The next time he woke up was in a hospital room. But consciousness was hard and pain and the room was dark and empty. So he let himself drift back off to sleep quietly. He didn’t want to deal with the consequences of waking up yet.

Steve wasn’t sure if they’d won.

He was alive and not dead buried in some ditch, so that was a good sign.

Arguably, though, he would probably be in a lot less pain if he was in the ditch.

The next time he woke up, Sam was there. Playing something over a speaker that Steve didn’t have the willpower to listen to just then. He vaguely remembered an album that Sam had mentioned to him. It had only been a couple of days but it felt like it was so long ago. Steve was having trouble focusing on the memories of it.

“On your left.” Sam said softly. Steve snorted and forced himself to look that way.

“This might be the only time you could beat me in a race.” Steve told him weakly. Sam laughed at him. “I’d take advantage of it if I were you.”

Sam stood and, instead of responding to him, waved his hand in to the hallway. A nurse walked in, followed by Maria and Natasha. They were both fine. Natasha was closely followed by a nondescript man in a black and white suit that wasn’t so much casual as screaming ‘Covert Government Agent’ really, really loudly. He ignored the man and looked at the other two.

“How’d we do?” His throat was dry. Before he even thought to ask, Sam handed him a glass of ice chips.

“None of the carriers were able to launch Project Insight successfully.” Maria reported.

Steve relaxed in to his bed. Thank _god_.

“Mr. Rogers.” The man in the suit interrupted. Steve glared.

“It’s Captain, actually.” Steve corrected. He stiffened, chin jutting somehow even further into the air.

“I’m here fro-”

“He’s with the Department of Homeland Security. They’re having a senate hearing about what happened. The carriers. Hydra. Project Insight.” Natasha ignored the way the man glared at her for cutting him off, moving closer to Steve’s bed. “We’ve told them what we can but we didn’t have eyes on the last ship. Or on you.”

Steve swallowed. “I remember ending up in the water.”

“Nothing else?” The agent asked. Steve scowled.

“Falling.” He quipped.

“A Hydra Asset has gone missing. One they think you have an interest in.” Natasha swallowed before continued. The look she gave Steve was full of pity. “Nobody has seen Bucky since he attacked Sam on the flight deck.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna talk about that.” Sam interjected. Steve smirked at him, appreciating the levity.

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Howling Commando. Your friend.” The agent elaborated.

“I’m aware of who Bucky is.” Steve informed him, stony faced. He tacked on a mocking, “Sir.”

“Despite multiple roadblocks, helicopters, and surveillance Mr. Barnes was not found.” The agent showed him a few pictures, grainy and distant, of Bucky’s face. “These are the only images we have of him, taken the day before the Triskelion.”

Steve shrugged. “Interesting.”

“When did you last see Mr. Barnes?” The agent asked

“Are we really doing this right now?” The nurse asked the agent. Steve was glad for the moment to compose himself to think. “The patient has been awake for less than five minutes.”

The agent was not deterred. “Time is of the utmost importance in cases like this, ma’am.”

“It’s been three days.” She snapped.

“I haven’t seen him since that day. Well before I fell in to the water. I don’t know what to tell you.” Steve shrugged. “I barely managed to swim to shore. Stopping Hydra took it’s toll. I wasn’t able to follow his position. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

Steve nodded formally, but the agent didn’t respond or move for almost a full minute. “You _swam_?”

“Yes, sir.” Steve nodded.

“You want me to put that in to the official report for the senate hearing?” He pressed.

“It’s what happened.” Steve nodded. “So, yes.”

He didn’t miss the looks from the other three. But the agent did, so he didn’t think to press Steve any further. With a curt nod to Natasha, he snapped his small notepad closed and left the room. The rest of them waited a few seconds and then started laughing.

“I’m glad you are all okay.” Steve nodded. He looked around. “Is Namorita-”

“Unable to enter the premises.” Natasha rolled her eyes. “But she’s fine.”

“Saved the day, actually.” Maria admitted.

“She got Fury here in time for us to stop Pierce from winning. We got all of Hydra’s files. Well, we got all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files. Same thing.” Natasha nodded a few times and Steve assumed the story behind that was much deeper. “We dumped it all online. All of it. No more secrets. No more lies.”

Steve blanched. “All of it?”

“All of it.” Natasha nodded. Her look told Steve enough. He leaned his head back against his pillow and sighed. That was the end of Captain America, then. Everyone would know he wasn’t worthy of it. Everyone would know he was a fraud.

“And?” He hardly wanted to know, but he had to ask.

“They’re calling for you to be court-martialed.” Maria admitted. But she shrugged.

“They tried to cite the UCMJ. But then somebody reminded them your rank was honorary and not tied to a service contract.” Natasha smirked. “So then they looked like assholes and had to admit it was because of your status.”

“Which is not human.” Steve assumed.

“Which is TBD.” Natasha corrected. When Steve raised an eyebrow, she shrugged.

“They couldn’t very well call you human.” She laughed. “But the Hydra files have made a lot of that a lot more confusing.”

“Are there any official responses?” He asked.

“Only that it will be subject to official review once your condition stabilized.” Natasha explained.

He asked them to leave after that. He wanted to sleep again. He was tired. But then the nurse was back doing more tests and Steve was left staring at a brown patch on the ceiling while she worked on him. It was the first medical test Steve had done in years where he wasn’t having to worry about his secret. The whole thing was already out anyway. The only thing he had to distract himself from the growing panic was the fact that his body was in so much pain he could barely think about anything else besides it.

The nurse couldn’t do anything to help him about it. There wasn’t medication strong enough in their facility to deal with Steve’s genetic makeup. He sighed and wondered how the world would take it if he transferred to a facility actually equipped to help him. Steve was already going to be persona non grata shortly anyways. Maybe he should just expedite the whole process.

He hadn’t realized he was holding anything until his cup was flattening itself against the far wall, deformed from the force of his through. Steve swallowed. The rage was still there, apparently, even if he tried to pretend that it wasn’t.

“IS this a bad time?” Tony asked. Steve’s head shot up.

“You know, I was just about to go for my run.” Steve told him, gesturing to the door. “So maybe come back later? I do have sparring at two, though, so my time is limited.”

Tony snorted. “Smart ass. Who taught you to understand sarcasm?”

“You did.” Steve pointed out. Tony grinned. He handed Steve a novelty teddy bear in a Cap uniform.

“A get well soon present from me and Pep.” He told him. Steve snorted.

“Pepper had nothing to do with this.” He surmised. Tony just grinned. But Steve could see the exhaustion behind his eyes. He knew Tony was going to be under a lot of pressure as the face of the Avengers. At least, the human face. “How are you holding up?”

Tony scoffed and gestured to his hospital bed. “You’re really asking me that right now?”

“I have a feeling being unconscious the last few days has been for the best.” Steve admitted.

“There are some people questioning whether or not you should be an Avenger.” Tony told Steve. No preamble, just straight from small talk to the point. “I told them that since S.H.I.E.L.D. no longer oversees or funds the Avengers, it’s none of their fucking business.”

Steve snorted. “Thank you, Tony.”

“You’ve got a whole tropical storm worth of shit waiting for you once you get out of here.”

“I know.” Steve nodded.

“I just want you to know that you’ve got a place to go.” Tony insisted. “I don’t care what the rest of them say, you’re an Avenger. You’re not even the first non-human Avenger. So the rest of the world can kiss my ass. And as long as I have a say, you’re staying.”

* * *

 

Steve didn’t have the energy to stay awake much longer after Tony left. But his sleep was fitful and he didn’t feel rested when he woke up. More like his head was in a vice while someone dug razorblades in to his back. Steve groaned, grasping wildly for the call button even though he knew there was very little his doctors were going to be able to do for him. His broken bones set improperly before they could fix them, his pain wasn’t managed by human drugs, and nobody on his medical team was familiar with demon physiology.

Steve was lucky they understood enough to keep him from getting worse.

The call button brought nobody. It was late and dark and his nurses were probably doing whatever it was nurses did during the night shift that kept the hospitals running. He’d have to wait a while. Steve tried not to be resentful of it. He rolled to his side, wondering if that would help the pain in his back.

“Bucky.” He said it softly, trying not to startle him. Bucky was sitting on the floor next to the bed.

“I went to the museum.” He said softly.

“You did?” Steve smiled.

“You never could draw worth a damn, punk.” Bucky grinned. But it didn’t meet his eyes and he looked haggard. The smile only made the lines around his face deeper. He looked bad.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

Bucky scoffed and said nothing. He was staring at Steve without saying anything, but Steve could see the guilt on his face. There was a moment of silence before Bucky looked away, shaking his head weakly and trembling.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. Steve tried to move but when he did, Bucky tensed and pressed further back.

“You saved my life.” Steve whispered. He forced a weak smile. “You’ve been saving my life since I was ten years old, I don’t know why it’s a surprise anymore.”

Bucky was crying, shaking his head. “I let them make me hurt you.”

“You didn’t have a choice.” Steve insisted.

“I’ve done bad things, Steve.” Bucky told him. He looked up, locking eyes with Steve. “I remember now.”

Those three words carried so much pain that Steve crumbled a little. “You didn’t have a choice.”

Bucky dragged up the sleeve of his shirt, showing Steve the same mangled piece of flesh that Namorita had shown him. A destroyed sigil. Bucky didn’t seem like he registered Steve staring at it, rubbing his own thumb over it repeatedly.

“I won’t let them make you do anything else.” Steve insisted. From his hospital bed. He saw the irony.

“I have to go.” Bucky told him. He was standing. “But I wanted to come back. To say sorry.”

Steve smiled. “You always come back.”

“If they can’t find me, everyone will be safe. If I go. I can hide where they can’t find me.”

“Just promise you’ll come back.” Steve whispered. Bucky took a few steps towards the door. He was rubbing his hands together nervously. He wanted to leave and was shaking his head weakly. “Bucky, just promise me that you’ll come back.”

Bucky swallowed. “You’ll be better this way. I won’t hurt anyone.”

And then he was gone. Steve tried to stand, but couldn’t. He cursed as he fell to the ground in a pile, setting off all sorts of sensors on the machines around him. He wasn’t strong enough. Again.

* * *

 

He was out the next day, forcing himself to walk. To not be weak. Steve made it down the block before getting winded. His back was clenching up and the way his knees were shaking wasn’t particularly pleasant. But then, right as he was about to admit defeat and turn around, he heard the very smug and familiar voice of Natasha heckling him from about twenty feet away.

“The doctors didn’t think you should be walking yet.” Natasha reminded him when she got closer.

“Then I guess I shouldn’t tell them about the marathon I ran this morning.” Steve joked. The pain wasn’t subsiding and he was going to have to leave his pride on the sidewalk soon in search of a seat. But for the moment he continued to limp along the path sorely. Natasha let him but clearly only to see how far he would actually put himself not to admit he was wrong.

“Oh, I can see you are so fast and spritely.” She nodded.

“You’d never guess I was using a wheelchair yesterday.” It was undermined by Steve wincing.

“King of the roller derby.” Natasha quipped. Steve laughed. They settled onto a bench.

“Happy?” He asked her, pretending it was for her benefit and not his. She smirked but didn’t call him on it. Instead, she sat on the bench next to him and sighed. Natasha wasn’t telling him something about the hearing. She and Sam had made him promise not to watch the coverage of it.

“The hearing’s over today.” Natasha said quietly.

“Yeah?” Steve thought it would be at least another week.

“I ended it.” Natasha admitted. “It wasn’t going anywhere. Nobody is going to pay for it.”

Steve shook his head. “Except for the good people that died. Or lost their jobs.”

“Starks working on that. You’d be surprised how easy it’s been for our agents to find new jobs. CIA. FBI. NSA. Everyone’s come knocking.” Natasha smirked and shook her head. Steve wasn’t surprised. Talented, loyal agents able to keep secrets. The intelligence agencies are probably thrilled with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s demise. “Everyone’s making do. The ones that aren’t managing on their own, we’re placing at Stark Industries for the time being. Ostensibly in the R&D department.”

“That’s generous of Tony.” Steve said, pleasantly surprised.

“Tony does generous really, really well.” Natasha laughed. “It’s to make up for the absolutely everything else about him.”

Steve could have kept going along that vein but instead stopped. “You know, he saved my life.”

“Stark?” Natasha looked confused.

“Bucky.” Steve clarified. “He pulled me from the river.”

Natasha mocked surprise. “You mean you didn’t swim? Congress will be so appalled. You lied.”

“Shut up.” Steve laughed.

“I’m just surprised you know how.” She continued. “Mr. America indeed.”

“Just trying to fit in in the 21st century.” Steve joked. Natasha didn’t laugh.

“Are you going to look for him?” She asked Steve. “It won’t be easy. Not if he doesn’t want to be found. Which he won’t. He’s going to go to ground and he’s not going to surface again until he’s ready. And he might never be ready.”

Steve scowled. He wondered if she’d heard their conversation earlier. “How do you know that?”

She leveled him with a look but didn’t explain. Steve took the hint and just nodded.

“I have to try to find him.” Steve told her. “I didn’t before. And…and I owe it to him.”

Natasha didn’t question him about it but sighed, shoving her hands in to her pockets. “I have some connections back in Kiev. From before I became the defector. I don’t know that they’ll talk to me, but I’ll reach out if you want me to. I’ll ask about your friend.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Steve refused to get his hopes up. They sat quietly.

“I owe you.” Natasha told him. She looked down at her hands and Steve sensed something vulnerable in her. “You and me. We’re what’s left of S.H.I.E.L.D., for better or worse. At least officially. And I still think you’re a good guy, Rogers. So if you want to dig, I’ll grab a shovel. I’m in.”

“Me, too. I mean, for you.” Steve fumbled awkward. She laughed and the tension was defused.

“Thanks.” She nodded a few times. Steve’s chest felt lighter but Natasha still looked serious.

“That situation. From before. Did it get resolved?” He asked her. She shrugged and forced a small smile.

“As much as it can.” She stood and pulled Steve to his feet. “I’ll text you if I get anything.”

* * *

Steve didn’t leave New York with Tony, even when the other man practically had him kidnapped to the tarmac of the Signature airlines lot at Reagan. He wanted to stay, at least for a little bit longer. There wasn’t much left for him in D.C. anymore. Sam was staying. But Natasha was gone. S.H.I.E.L.D. was officially closed (at least to the public).

He’d never built a life there.

Steve walked with his baseball cap pulled low over his brow and earbuds in his ears. He had told Namorita he would meet her near the mall and was already five minutes late. And he was ten minutes away, even at the pace that he walked.

“You’re late.” He spun around. Namorita was standing there, holding Starbucks and glaring at him.

“Oops?” He grinned, because her glare didn’t have any actual heat.

They continued walking together down the walking until a pinched looking blonde reporter in heels that made her almost as tall as Steve came barreling down the sidewalk straight for him. At first Steve tried to duck his head and ignore her as she and the man behind her carrying the camera rattled off a, rather offensive, summary of the last few days the included a lot of words like ‘ _fraud_ ’ and ‘ _demon_ ’ and ‘ _criminal charges_ ’. His feelings towards her did not improve in the slightest when she physically forced him to stop by planting herself in front of him and shouting questions at him.

“Captain America.” The microphone in her hand went in to his face. “How do you respond to the allegations that your parentage has been faked?”

Was that how they were trying to explain it? Steve gaped. “False.”

“And yet you’ve presented the entire internet with evidence of Demon biology?” The reported asked.

“The serum-” He managed to get out. Then she interrupted him.

“Are you saying that you blame Tony Stark and Stark Industries for this predicament?”

“Of course not?” Steve shook his head, incredulous. It wasn’t a matter of blame.

“So then the defects are actually genetic?” She kept stepping forward.

“No. No. Stop. _Defects?_ No.” The reporter’s microphone was practically inside Steve’s skull. Maybe it could pick up the contact stream of swearing that he was letting lose in there. Steve couldn’t get any words out besides shaking his head. There was panic clutching his chest as the crowd around the reporter grew.

“So then how do you explain them?” She asked. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Steve huffed and knocked the microphone to the side so that he could breathe. “No comment.”

He went to stomp back in to the building. The reporter tried to follow him- Steve could hear her obnoxiously high heels on the marble steps of the museum- but then there was a bang and ruffling. Steve glanced over his shoulder and saw Namorita standing there, wings spread wide, while the reporter was sprawled on the ground. She looked back at him and grinned.

“You go on, Cap.” She told him. “I’ll meet you inside.”

Steve rolled his eyes, went back to her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her along with him.

“Lets go.” He told her.

“Oh, please. I wasn’t going to hurt her. Much.” Namorita grinned happily. But she followed him inside.

The museum was the American History museum. The one that held his exhibit. Steve had made the call from his hospital bed after watching the first press conferences following the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the dropping of all the S.H.I.E.L.D. documents on to the internet. Sam, Natasha, Maria, and Steve had all had their faces splayed on the news. The were lauded as the hero whistleblowers that brought down an international threat to World Peace. Alternately, terrorists. It depended on what channel he was watching. But there was one person that both sides had roundly ignored.

“What’s this?” Namorita asked him. Steve pulled her along the exhibit without answering.

“Just trust me.” He told her.

“I’m not here for an ego trip, Rogers.” She told him.

Steve just rolled his eyes and pushed her ahead of him in to the last room. It wasn’t about Steve. Not really. But it was about setting some things right and what Steve was going to do next. He nodded, mostly to himself, as the rounded in to the small room of the Captain Americas that had come after him. It was mostly empty. The only two people in it were Sam and Azazel.

“Thanks for coming.” Steve told them all.

“Is there a reason we’re meeting here?” Sam asked.

“Well, my apartment ended up being a government front.” Steve sighed. “And the National Guard is still patrolling the D.O.Z., and your house is in Alexandria which nobody goes to willingly.”

“You were _just there_.” Sam tried to argue but Steve just made a face.

“I was literally being hunted by government assassins.” He told Sam, keeping a straight face.

“I’mma let them shoot you next time.” Sam claimed. They all laughed.

“But really. Why are we here?” Azazel looked nervous, wings fluttering and half open.

“Because of I have a proposition for you guys.” Steve told them with a smile. “And this is the part where I meant to talk about how I had something these guys never did. And not just the serum. Help. And a team made up of the right people.”

“Can we skip to hoo-rah speech and get to what you want?” Namorita asked.

“I hope he’s not asking me to be an Avenger.” Azazel looked at Steve nervously.

“No.” Steve laughed. “This is more important. This is about doing something good for a change. A positive impact. Too much of recent politics has been rooted in hate instead of healing. It’s all about what they hate and not about what they support.”

Sam sighed. “I don’t think he knows he does it. I think it’s just how he talks.”

“Should we bring in a translater?” Namorita asked. “It might help.”

“That would just make it take longer.” Azazel said, making a face. Steve sighed.

“Nobody here respects me.” Steve gave an exaggerated sigh and shook his head. “I get no respect.”

Azazel pointed around. “That’s why we’re here. He’s showing us how important he is.”

“ _No._ ” Steve insisted. But he laughed with the rest of them. When they were done Steve shook his head. Straight to the point it was. “I want to restart the D.P.B. and I want you guys to do it with me. Human. Demon. Nephilim. We stop the violence. We help real people. Do real good.”

There was silence. Before Namorita’s face broke into a grin. “Damn, Steve, you should’ve just said so.”

“So, you’re in?” He asked her.

“Of course. Like grandfather like granddaughter.” Namorita smiled.

“Demon Protection Bureau pay better than the V.A.?” Sam asked him. Steve rolled his eyes. Sam just laughed and nodded. “You already know I’m in, man.”

The just left Azazel. Steve turned and looked at them. “How about you?”

“I’m in.” They grinned, but it was nervous and weak.

“You sure.” Steve asked. “It’s totally voluntary.”

“I’m gonna get to kick ass right?” They asked, letting a deep breath. Their face broke in to a grin. “Because, let me tell you, I have a list of people who deserve and if we wanted to start there, I could definite send that over to you and-”

Namorita looked on proudly. “We’re definitely going to let you kick ass.”

“After we make sure you know what you’re doing.” Steve nodded. He looked towards the entrance. People were standing in the other room, looking through the door at them and staring. He sighed. “Now, who wants to be the one to tell the reporters?" 

Namorita was already moving. “Oh, I’d love to.”

* * *

 

Steve ended up at a graveyard a week later because his day had started with a text from Natasha urging Steve to get his daily exercise by paying his respects at Fury’s grave. She claimed it would be good for him to be seen out and about to refute rumors of his invalid status. Of course, it had also been implied that there was information for him there. But when he arrived the entire place was deserted and Steve had had to bribe the gate guard to let them in.

“You sure she wanted you to come today?” Sam asked. Steve nodded.

“She was pretty specific.” He shrugged. “Or, as specific as she gets. 

There were flowers and other ornaments adorning the grave site but the headstone itself was simple and understated. Natasha and Maria had chosen well. He didn’t know what Natasha had wanted him to find here and just stared at it blankly for several minutes.

“So. You’ve experienced this kind of thing before.” A voice called over to them.

Steve wasn’t surprised when Fury showed up at his own headstone. It was exactly his level of dramatic. Sam raised an eyebrow but Steve fought back a smirk. “You get used to it.”

“We’ve been data mining Hydra’s files. Looks like a lot of rats didn’t go down with the ship.” Fury told them, changing the subject. Steve wasn’t surprised by the ulterior motive. “I’m headed to Europe tonight. Wanted to ask if you’d come.”

Steve took a breath. “There’s something I got to do first.”

“I hear you’ve got a lot of things on your plate nowadays.” Fury didn’t elaborate but raised an eyebrow.

“They D.P.B. has already gotten international approval.” Steve said defensively. The last week had been a long and busy one. “The Governor of New York issued a formal acknowledgment that we played a key role in resolving the conflict there.”

Fury said nothing in response. Instead, he turned and regarded Sam.

“What about you, Wilson?” Fury tried. “Could use a man with your abilities.”

Sam looked to Steve first, then Fury. “I’m more of a soldier than a spy.”

“All right, then.” Fury nodded and shook both their hands. He gestured to the plot of ground. “Anybody asks for me; tell them they can find me right here. 

They just nodded and, with that, Fury was gone.

“You should be honored. That’s about as close as he gets to saying thank you.” A voice called to them.

“Not going with him?” Steve asked, walking up to her. She smiled.

“No.” She shook her head. He took in her expression and guessed.

“Not staying here.” He tried. Natasha smiled again. This time, it was more conciliatory. She felt bad.

“Nah.”  She admitted. “I blew all my covers. I got to go figure out a new one.”

“That might take a while.” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“I’m counting on it.” She gave a small shrug, less casual than she intended, and held something out to him. A folder. “That thing you asked for. I called in a few favors from Kiev.”

Steve frowned. It was thick with papers with red print on the top. He could hardly stand looking at it.

“Will you do me a favor?” Natasha asked, drawing his attention back to her. “Call that nurse.”

“She’s not a nurse.” Steve reminded her. Kate. It still stung his pride to have missed that.

“And you’re not a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.” Natasha shot back with a smirk. Steve smiled.

“Still trying to get me to date?” He asked her, offering a smile to offset to somewhat stiff tone of voice.

“Still want you to be happy.” Natasha smiled back.

“What was her name again?” He asked her. Barely, he refrained from specifying that he was looking for her real one. Natasha smiled, with just enough of a smirk for him to know that she knew exactly what he was thinking. 

“Sharon.” She supplied. Natasha nodded to herself. “She’s nice.”

She leaned in to him, which was unlike her, and gave him a kiss on the cheek affectionately. Steve gave her a quick hug. She turned to walk away. After a few steps she stopped and looked back at Steve, her expression worried. 

“Be careful, Steve.” She cautioned him. “You might not want to pull on that thread.”

She walked away and Steve opened it to a random page and looked down. There were ledgers on one side, documenting something in Russian that Steve couldn’t read. The other side was a photo of Bucky restrained. No. Frozen. He heard Sam approach and didn’t have to look up to see the judgmental expression on his face.

Bucky hadn’t contacted him since the hospital room. And he hadn’t seemed well. If Steve wanted to bring him back he was going to have to find out how Hydra traveled to and from Tartarus. It was the only way. Because Steve didn’t think Natasha was wrong. Natasha wasn’t usually. Bucky was only going to be found when he was ready.

“You’re going after him.” It wasn’t a question.

“You don’t have to come with me.” Steve said quickly.

“I know.” Sam admitted. He paused. “When do we start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
> 
> And fin!! THANK YOU ALL for sticking it out to the end and I hope you enjoyed it.


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